Large PrintHandheldAudioRating
Twisting The Hellmouth Crossing Over Awards - Results
Rules for Challenges

Now It's A Disco - Book I

StoryReviewsStatisticsRelated StoriesTracking

Summary: A mass crossover designated only to make the reader (and, more importantly, writers) laugh their patoots off.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Multiple Crossings > GeneralAureliusFR182093,092012,8892 Jan 052 Jan 05Yes


Now It’s A Disco

The Epic Saga

Book I

Authors: Holly and Kimmie (,

Rating: R, for offensive language and implied sexual situations

Timeline: Oh, why even bother? There is no set timeline. All seasons for Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel the Show apply. Following the college years of Saved by the Bell, and the who-knows season of The West Wing. As for Harry Potter, anything goes. There are too many characters to keep up. Oh, and sometime before Hannibal but very definitely after The Silence of the Lambs.

Summary: Are you kidding me?

Distribution: Why anyone would want to tarnish a perfectly good archive with this story is beyond my line of thinking, but if you’re interested, be my guest.

Disclaimer : We own absolutely, positively, and completely nothing…well, except Wanda the one-legged disco singer, Officer Hanson, and assorted other random characters that are not already spoken for. We also do not own Barry White or Billy Idol. (Hehehehe) This story is for entertainment purposes only and not for the gain of any sort of monetary compensation. All characters are copyrighted to their rightful owners/creators, who will undoubtedly have us drawn and quartered if ever word of what we’ve done to their characters gets out. That is, if followers of these respected fandoms don’t kill us first.

That being said, this story is still a year in the making, begun because Kimmie and myself were entirely too bored one day at a writing conference we used to attend annually. (No, we were not kicked out for what you are mistakenly about to read…though it could possibly be one of the factors that contributed to Jack Bushman’s decision to cancel the conference the following year. Then again, I doubt we could ever be that influential, especially with this). Before I discovered my penchant for BtVS fanfic, I was an enthusiastic writer for The Silence of the Lambs/Hannibal fandom—yes, it does exist. Kimmie is a Saved by the Bell fan and we decided to collaborate on a SotL/SBtB story just for kicks. Well, time went on, I discovered BtVS (not too long after we began this story), and it has since become a long, pointless tribute to as many fandoms as we could come up with. Characters from ANY fandom are added sporadically and at our choosing, regardless of whether or not it makes sense. NOTHING is safe. We did not write this to impress anyone, and that shows. If anything, it was originally and, rightfully, structured to be our escape from the world of fine writing and sensical/fluent/composed flow. Where we both have prided ourselves at our prose before, nothing of the sort was attempted after the first…say, ten pages of this trifle of a story. It was originally composed for our enjoyment only, but after writing along its storyline for going on three years, we’ve decided it would be fitting to see how many people decided to stick this thing through. Remember, there is no plot; there is no continuation of creativity. This story is the work of two friends who were bored one day, and all the days after it. It has survived absolutely NO revision, except what we wish to change at whim simply because we feel like it, and was composed through traded emails, late-night computer sessions, and passing long-handed parts to each other in the hallway. The one consistent thing about this story is its inconsistency, and our dedication to finding and exploiting the most random forms of humor.

That being said, the books that follow Now It’s A Disco differ entirely from the original. Entirely. In those, we actually plot and employ some form of writing talent. This is nothing like those. This is absolute nonsense, but it’s some of the most fun I’ve ever had working on nonsense. Though silly, The Disco Series has helped me through some of my more difficult times, simply because it gives me a reason to laugh. To not care what I’m doing, and laugh at what comes from it. I believe Kimmie can say the same.

It’s a project based entirely off our sick twisted amusement. It has been the product of laughing fits, private jokes, and more laughing fits. We utilize it as an escape when the world becomes too serious, to shake our fists at boredom, and, whether intentional or not, to laugh at how seriously fan fiction takes itself. We mean absolutely no disrespect to any of the fandoms we incorporated, though it might seem otherwise at times. All of the fandoms we included were done so out of love and admiration.

You have been thoroughly warned.


Of course, for any story of the following nature to feasibly take place, the weather must appropriately be dark and stormy. While couples scurried from movie theatres and restaurants propped conveniently under large umbrellas, he walked solemnly down the street, unbothered by the water that trickled over his fedora and splattered haphazardly on the ground. While his fine Armani would likely never again see the light of day, it was not one of his favorite outfits, or truly unremarkable from anything else stored in his closet. The doctor was always dressed splendidly, careful with his belongings, but not about to let a few material objects stand in his way of having a good time.

No, Dr. Lecter had always loved rain. Its taste coiled his tongue with the reestablishment of his obtained freedom; something he had pined for over the years. Now in the months since his Memphis escape, he reflected the passage of time with growing regularity.

He wondered how she was. If the lambs still screamed their tempestuous plight.

They were walking down the street huddled under an umbrella. Screech was the only one who didn’t care, with his bright pink poncho. He was just walking along singing Copa Cabana and splashing in puddles when he ran into him.

Dr. Lecter was never one to pay much attention to the unbridled stupidity of others, having long ago come to the realization that none could be as refined as him. Instead, he focused on the corruption mounting around him. Washington could be like that; not carry a distinct feeling or scent, rather the knowledge of the swaying power the bureaucrats had over his lovely little Starling. Perhaps a visit was in order…at least while he was in town.

Screech noticed the lonely looking man approaching and said, “I think that he looks a little lonely, Zack. We should invite him to come over to your cousin’s house.”

“I wish I was a little bit more lonely,” Lisa said as she glared at Screech.

“I don’t think she’s even going to allow all of us in at once. I just told her Kelly and a couple of friends. I didn’t even know that you were here running for Congress, Screech,” Zack explained.

“Well, then at least I’ll say a friendly little something to him then,” Screech decided.

As Screech grew nearer to his target of annoyance, he smiled brightly at Dr. Lecter. “Hello. You look like you needed a friend. My name is Screech.”

Dr. Lecter was accustomed to a number of annoyances. After all, he had lived eight years of his life trapped within four walls of a concrete box. Often, he took abundant pleasure in ridding the world of its variety of irritations. He had killed Miggs for making a spectacle of himself after Starling drew herself away; he had toyed with Sammie to his hearts content—using them to satisfy his constantly analyzing cavity until they were no longer useful. This…thing, however, classified as none of the above. Someone he would rather kill than look at, an obstruction to the scrapings of society’s good name. However, he could not simply continue his walk and ignore the young whelp. That would be rude. With body language that screamed an irritated disposition, he stopped and turned fluently, maroon eyes flickering with malicious intent. “I assure you,” he said swiftly, his tone cold by nature, uninviting and perturbed, “if it was company I desired, I could find it quickly, without the need of outside assistance.”

“Oh. Well, I was just going to ask if you wanted to come with me to my best buddy’s cousin’s house. I want to reach out to all of my constituents,” Screech explained.

“Sorry about my friend sir,” Zack walked over and remarked. “Come on Screech. I don’t want to keep Clarice waiting. We’re supposed to go out to eat.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t care to attend?” Screech questioned once more.

Dr. Lecter’s brows perked in interest, his eyes growing wide with spontaneous unbelievably. The notion was ridiculous. No way. Impossible. A city this size, there had to be more than one ‘Clarice’ residing within the tri-state area. However, he knew that if he didn’t pursue this charming venue, he would spend the night pondering the intelligence of his decision. On the other hand, if he accepted and this ‘Clarice’ turned up to be some seventy-five year old one-legged hooker with a missing kidney, he would be forced to tolerate the company of the annoying young man and his merry band of friends.

Or he could just kill them…

“Clarice?” he hissed, the name rolling off his tongue in perfected annunciation of every syllable.

“Well, yes. Clarice is my cousin. My wife and I had came to visit her, and well as you can see,” he motioned toward the group of five, “That we gathered a few more along the way. If you would like to come I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. It’s part of her job description you could say, to meet new people,” Zack said with his typical charm is his eyes.

Still airy, annoyed with the lack of a mentioned last name, Dr. Lecter decided he was getting nowhere with this line of questioning and thought to turn and continue in the other direction. However, Clarice’s face flashed before his eyes and he knew whatever torment he was destined to endure would be worth it if she were the prize at the end of the tunnel. “Very well,” he conceded reluctantly. “If you don’t believe that I will be a burden.”

“No sir. We all love to meet and get to know new and interesting people,” Kelly said enthusiastically.

“But if you have anything that might sound more enjoyable for your free time, I would decline,” Slater offered.

No one would ever suspect Dr. Hannibal Lecter, murderer of at least fifteen, to spend a Friday night with a group of college students. If anything, the cover would keep his actions inconspicuous. “No, no,” he said softly, grinning a smile like the cat that ate the canary. “I assure you—I have no fixed engagements.”

“See. I told you he was lonely,” Screech whispered to Zach as they began to walk down the street.

“Let me introduce you to everyone,” Kelly said to Dr. Lecter. “My name is Kelly Morris and this is my husband, Zack. That’s A.C. Slater, Jessie Spano, Lisa Turtle, and well, Sam Screech Powers.” Her finger pointed decidedly to the strange one in the pink poncho.

With the exception of the Morrises, Dr. Lecter reflected that they really had ridiculous names. His distinct and precise elevated level of hearing easily detected this…Screech’s side comment about his nonexistent loneliness, and he had to resist the urge to reach for his Harpy. “A pleasure, I’m sure,” he muttered in a very unpleasurable voice. “I am Dr. Arthur Fell, MD.”

In the end Jessie, Lisa, and Slater took one of the two cabs while the rest of the posse took another. Kelly tried to entertain with her sweet chitchat while Zack tried to keep Screech from getting himself in even more trouble with the doctor. Zack had a strange sensation that this man was not to be dealt with lightly. He liked that.

About thirty minutes later everyone arrived in front of a small white house is a typical Washington suburb. Everyone piled out of the car and headed for the door. “Clarice is going to hate me,” Zack commented to his wife. “Why did you have to go and tell everyone that we were taking a trip to D.C.?”

“I’m really sorry. I think she’ll understand though. She always sounded understanding on the phone when Slater would say cheesy pick up lines every time she called the house.”

“That’s a little different that bringing him to her house along with four other unexpected guests. I hate being rude, but she moved in last week and doesn’t have her phone connected yet.”

Zack went to the door and knocked.

The frame opened slowly, beats lasting in antici…(SAY IT!)…pation. For the briefest instant, Dr. Lecter wondered if he had been transported to a realm where everyone originated from a circus, or if his psycho notions had finally transpired to psychic. The squashed cabbage-leaf on the other side of the door looked to be a walking corpse. Her lifeless neon eyes blinked in confusion, offsetting streaks of purple hair. A loose-fitting bag of skin fit over her frail structure, mouth draped open in divulgence of cigarette-stained teeth. She leaned on a crutch in support of her missing lower appendage, and was wearing short-shorts that revealed a traffic-way of spider-webby varicose veins. Lastly, a baggy ‘I’m With Stupid à’ tank top covered her chest. The zombie creature took a puff of the nicotine delight wedged between yellow-stained fingers and unfortunately blew the smoke in Dr. Lecter’s face, who was standing slightly to the side. When she spoke, it sounded like a toad taking its final croak. “May I help you?”

The doctor could not help it. The most human of reactions possessed him. “Ahh!”

“Why hello, Miss S!” Screech greeted merrily. “Whoa, Zack, I can really see the resemblance.”

“This is not my Clarice,” Zack sputtered in terror. At least Dr. Lecter wasn’t standing directly in front of this…creature. He stepped back a few feet until he collided with Slater’s chest, who would have been quick to make a cute comment had he not also been gaping in shock.

“Excuse me,” Kelly began, terrified. “We’re looking for the resident of this house. Is there a woman named Clarice available?”

The creature from Night of the Living Dead took another painfully long hit of her cigarette before consigning to the ground by Dr. Lecter’s feet. “Yes, I’m her landlord,” it wheezed, resembling a demon from the Exorcist. “Making sure she gets—”

“Who is it, Wanda?”

A sense of relief coursed through his system. Dr. Lecter knew that voice. Within seconds, she was in sight, smiling happily at Zack before her eyes wandered in his direction. Her face fell expressionless, void of fear though reeking of confusion. “Doctor—”

“Fell, yes, I see you remember.” The doctor’s eyes twinkled and he ran his tongue suggestively over his lips. “Hello Clarice. It has been far too long.”

“Clarice,” Zack began. “I would have called to inform you about this circus I brought, but I knew you had just moved in.” He moved to hug her. “By the way Dr. Fell, I meant nothing about you, but the others in this party.” His eyes moved toward Screech.

However, Zack was a little curious about this doctor. How did Clarice know him? And what was with the strange tension that gave him the feeling that they should all just turn around and head back to California?

Having recovered from her astonishment to see her favorite cousin alongside the escaped convicted felon of the recently shut down Baltimore Dungeon, Clarice stuttered and shook her head. She stepped aside to allow Wanda room, the baggage moving down the steps and hobbling toward her car. The group in her way quickly constructed a path, though more for fear than courtesy.

“Landlords,” Clarice muttered irritably, looking at Dr. Lecter with precision. With ease, he read that he was in no danger here, that she would not put her family and his companions in the middle of such awkwardness. Instead, she seemed perfectly willing, perhaps eager, to continue with the charade. “Dr. Fell,” she said with a forced smile. “What a surprise. I wasn’t aware you made house calls.” Then, explanatorily, she turned to Zack and nodded in Lecter’s direction. “The Bureau recommended I go in for ten hours of therapy after I gunned down Buffalo Bill. They said, as a trainee, that it was a horrific experience that I needed to have settled through counseling before proceeding with my studies.”

“I see,” Zack stated concernedly. “Are you doing all right now?” he continued cautiously as he glanced quickly at Dr. Lecter conspicuously. He still couldn’t get over the look he had seen in his cousin’s eyes when they had first came to the door.

“Of course she is, Zack. She wasn’t shot,” Screech took the liberty to point out.

Zack simply ignored the comment and turned to Clarice for explanation on the circumstances.

Never being one to wear her emotions on her sleeves, Starling reflected that the look on her face must have screamed a thousand angry dispositions to deserve the reaction it derived from her troubled cousin. “I’m fine,” she dismissed, knowing it wasn’t her most convincing tenor. “Dr. Fell…well…I suppose you could say that he works miracles.”

At that, her eyes shot back to Dr. Lecter, who was grinning widely.

“Well, then Dr. Fell, I thank you with all deepest sentiments. Clarice is my closest relative on my mother’s side and if anything were to happen to her…” His thoughts trailed for a moment. “Well, I’m not sure exactly what I would do.” He turned his charming eyes towards his cousin.

“I know you’ll remember Slater from the many phone conversations,” he said beginning his long list of introductions.

“And now,” he continued, “You get the chance to meet Kelly, and well, be one of the first in the family to meet the next addition to the family.” He proudly touched his wife’s slightly swollen stomach.

Clarice smiled her cousinly smile and motioned them all inside. “It’s very nice to meet you,” she said winningly. “And I’m sorry about the mess. Mr. Crawford insisted I move from the barracks to an actual residence. Ardelia will be moving next door in a few days.” She looked hesitantly to Dr. Lecter, whose gaze was so intense that a noticeable lapse in concentration derailed her from her present course and forced her to catch her breath. “Anyway…ummm…I don’t have much room and board, or else I’d offer you this place for the night.” Again, her eyes drifted to the very cannibalistic and very present doctor standing not two feet away from her, not separated by bars. Her pulse began to race.

“Well of course not, but if you need any help moving things in we would all be willing to help,” Kelly replied.

“Sure,” Slater remarked. “Now let’s eat.”

Zack looked at Clarice and figured that she would try to get herself out of going. She always could give him a good excuse when she had some sort of work to do. Also, he kept getting the strangest sensation whenever he turned his attention to this doctor.

However, Dr. Lecter was too quick for any of them. “I would be happy to treat everyone,” he said, eyes not having stirred from her face since she came into view. “And Mrs. Morris is quite right…we would be most willing to help you move, Clarrriiiiccceee.”

“Yeah,” she snickered, arching an eyebrow. “I’ll bet you would.”

Before the doctor could respond, Screech said, “After dinner we can all help with the living room furniture and Dr. Fell can help Clarice in the bedroom.”

“I don’t think so,” Zack muttered under his breath.

“So what type of doctor and patient relationship did they have?” Slater whispered to Jessie.

Usually Dr. Lecter made no reference to the things his uncannily acute hearing detected. However, this he could not allow to pass. “I assure you, Mister…Slater, is it? Our relationship was to die for.”

For a moment, Queen played in Slater’s head, a consistent chorus of, “IIIIIIIIIIIIIII DOOOONNNN’TTTT WANNNA DIIIIEEEEEE…SOMETIMES WISH I’D NEVER BEEN BORN AT ALLLLLL!!!!!!!!!!!”

Jessie smirked as Slater’s face turned a remarkable shade of pink.

“Well,” Kelly said without hearing the comment Slater said to irritate the doctor so. “You don’t have to go to the trouble in paying for everyone. That would be exceptionally rude to force you to pay for a bunch of strangers. Plus, you’d be surprised how much Slater can eat.”

Dr. Lecter shook his head, waving a hand in decisive certainty. “Please, I insist. And then we can all return and assist Clarice with her moving.” With that, he looked back to her and smiled. “Though, should it be too late, I would be happy to do it myself.” At that, he was tempted to wink, but thought the better of it with the consideration of her cousin’s already edge nerves.

“All right,” Zack said as he grabbed Clarice by the arm and pulled her into the kitchen. “You are one of the few people I trust so tell me with truth. What is up with you and Dr. QuackPack?”

Clarice’s eyes bulged briefly; looking passed his shoulder to be sure Dr. Lecter couldn’t hear, but she understood not to underestimate his elevated sensory. She knew that she couldn’t BS her way out of an explanation with the way the doctor insisted on emphasizing the innuendos. Zack might have been a blond, but he was no dummy and would likely not accept an, “Oh…nothing…”

Think up a lie and think it up quick.

“Well…” she said in her best shameful voice. “I suppose it’s obvious, isn’t it? We had to discontinue therapy for a reason…we had a torrid love affair.”

“Well, he didn’t seem like your type, but it’s been a while since I’ve seen you with any type. Are things still going on or did this torrid love affair fade away? I hope I didn’t make things extra awkward. Screech made us bring along the ‘poor lonely stranger.’”

Starling gulped. It was obvious that Dr. Lecter was not going to let her go unscathed in whatever method she chose to answer. However, she feared prompting him with such fuel would later come back to haunt her. “I ended it…on good terms, but…” She bit her lip and hazarded another glance in his direction. If the good lord loved her perhaps there was the slightest chance that the doctor hadn’t heard the exchange.

No such luck. Her eyes met his and her stomach sank in defeat. He was perceptibly amused.

“Not a bad choice,” Screech stated as he elbowed Dr. Lecter in the ribs. “I wouldn’t mind a little torrid affair myself, if you know what I mean.” He winked at Lisa. “No offense, babe. You know you’ll always be my girl.”

All Lisa could manage to say with a straight face was, “Glad to see you still have that avid imagination, Screech.”

Despite the awkwardness of the situation, Dr. Lecter had far too much dignity to further accentuate Clarice’s apparent displacement. However, the rather brash comment made by Screech could not go ignored, as neither could Slater’s presumptuously arched brows. “Well, Clarice,” he said slowly, his tone moving for instinctive seduction, as though he could not help himself. “Are you ready? The town awaits.”

As they all moved for the door, the doctor and Clarice naturally last and side-by-side, she muttered in her familiar ‘don’t-fuck-with-me’ tone, “Try anything and I’ll serve you your balls for breakfast.”

“Are you implying that we will be partaking in breakfast together as well?”

Her glare shot daggers. “Watch it, buddy.”

Dr. Lecter grinned, giving her a small pat on the back in play. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he retorted.

He sounded as reliable as a chronic liar.

By the time they arrived at the Copa Cabana, everyone was beginning to get hungry.

At the table, things started growing tense when Slater began drinking. For some unusual reason, he wasn’t stopping and everyone figured it was because he wasn’t paying. Finally, after Slater was completely smashed, he turned to Zack and said, “She’s a slut,” as he pointed to Kelly.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Zack stammered.

“She slept with me.”

The whole table looked up with astonishment, but the look on Kelly’s face was sheer terror.

Dr. Lecter was torn between amusement and anger. This was natural, he justified, as the circumstances were not without their humor. However, Clarice’s reaction was hardly as calm. At first appalled, a look of unbridled rage took claim of her features. Standing abruptly in lack of concern to the mounting cold silence, she marched over to Kelly’s chair, debated tipping it over, but thought the better of it. “You TRAMP!” she growled, fire behind her eyes.

That was all it took. Rich chuckles coursed through the doctor, rumbling gently though audibly. She was so cute when she wanted to raise hell.

“Kelly?” Zack asked with hurt in his eyes.

She began to cry, ignoring the fuming FBI agent, and the allegation. “It was about five months ago. He said you were having an affair with that new girl you were working with. Then he gave me Chianti, and you know what that does to me. I know I’m horrible. I shouldn’t have believed him. If he hadn’t hit on me, I wouldn’t have done a thing…but the Chianti…” She burst into sobs.

Zack’s eyes flashed fire as he looked at his former best friend. To save himself from making a scene, he clenched his teeth and muttered with the hardest attempt of a smile, “Excuse me while I go to the water closet.”

“Zack’s coming out of the closet!” Screech yelled. “This is one hell of a night!”

Dr. Lecter, through all of this, had moved from his seat and neared Clarice, still deeply amused but not about to bypass the opportunity to comfort her. Attentively, he placed his hands on her shoulders and drew her to his chest. In the midst of the confusion, she allowed this, though he anticipated the return of ‘I’ll serve you your balls for breakfast’ Clarice at any minute.

Before Zack could get out of earshot, Slater said, “Well look around. All of them are sluts. Kelly cheated on Zack without much persuasion. Lisa will fuck anything that moves and resembles a man. And Jessie…well…what do you think she does in New York on the weekends? Then Clarice…should have figured that any cousin of Zack’s would sleep around with her therapist. Probably got her back to work with good behavior.”

That’s when Zack charged.

However, Zack was headed off by Clarice, who tore from Dr. Lecter’s arms and sailed across the table toward Slater, taking every ornamentation with her, hands propped and ready to strangle. She collided with her cousin and both fell over, each on either side of Slater, whose eyes widened at the realization that he was in deep shit. No amount of alcohol could save him. He jumped up and broke for the door.

When you piss off a cannibal, you can’t get too far. Slater was stopped by Dr. Lecter’s commanding grasp, gaze no longer amused, Harpy in hand, but only visible to him and the rest of the party. While the other occupants of the restaurant were watching, it was safely out of their line of vision.

“Why, Mr. Slater,” he growled coldly, eyes flashing with malicious intent. “Where do you think you’re going in such a hurry?”

Zack quickly pulled himself off the floor and helped Clarice to her feet.

Screech took one look at Lecter and Slater and said, “Check please.”

Clarice’s stretched the soreness from her back and popped her neck. When she finally saw the developing hostile situation, her previously manifest rage dissipated. “Doctor…” she whispered. “Please don’t—”

“Don’t what, Clarice?” Dr. Lecter hissed, not looking at her. He was enjoying the cold sweat running down Slater’s face. “I believe we should all take a little ride.” The Harpy pressed persistently into his victim’s neck, a sliver of red skating down the blade. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Oh yes I do,” Zack growled coldly. He grabbed Kelly’s hand and squeezed it gently.

“Yah, we should probably find a different place to eat. We’ve scared most everybody in this place,” Screech commented.

Without looking to Clarice, Dr. Lecter nodded in the direction of the door. “Might I suggest our lovely hostess’s abode? I’m sure I can…whip up something interesting.” The Harpy pressed perilously into the former jock’s skin. “After you, Mr. Slater.”

The group then proceeded back to Clarice’s. Jessie and Lisa were terrified while Screech was oblivious to what could happen.

Zack, on the other hand, was outraged beyond anything he had ever experienced in his life. His aggression was surprisingly not directed at his wife, but toward the guy he had trusted since his freshman year of high school. He knew he had liked Kelly back then, but he had no idea Slater had carried that grudge all those years. He hurt his wife, his pride, his friends, his closest relative, and himself. And for that he was going to pay.

How they had all piled into Clarice’s Mustang to begin with was a mystery. However, somehow, they pulled it off again. Kelly on Zack’s lap, Lisa on Screech’s, and Slater on Jessie’s. Dr. Lecter assumed the passenger side seat, glare set fiercely on Slater. Clarice was still reluctant, but knew she was too deeply involved to withdraw her participation now.

“Dr. Lecter,” she whispered, forgetting her preservation of his alias. “What exactly are you intending to do?”

“Just drive, Clarice,” he responded, not reacting to her lapse. It was too late to worry with particulars.

“Oh shit,” was all Slater could manage to say.

“Dr. Hannibal Lecter, I presume?” Zack said, with full understanding of the situation.

The doctor smiled at his perception. “Your roots are showing, Mr. Morris. You are most definitely of the Starling bloodline.” With that, he turned to Clarice and smiled. He enjoyed the very visible shudder she was unable to suppress. “Though do not allow my reputation to frighten you. Whenever feasible, I always prefer to eat the rude.”

“Well, I think we have the first course, Doctor,” Zack remarked with a smirk.

“Zack!” Kelly gasped.

“The matter is out of our hands now, Kelly,” Zack assured her. “Now it’s up to the professional.”

“Wow! I knew you worked with Clarice but I didn’t know you worked with rude people, too,” Screech remarked.

“At this rate,” Clarice snickered, “I can guess who will be dessert.”

Dr. Lecter grinned wickedly, leaning forward to brush a kiss over her cheek. “That’s my girl,” he whispered.

“Oh no, you don’t,” she growled defensively, moving away from him, as far she could, given the space of the vehicle. “I told you…your balls for breakfast. Just because the circumstances have changed doesn’t mean you’re free to get fresh.”

“Oooga, oooga, baby,” Slater said.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jessie stammered.

“Well, I’m already screwed, aren’t I, if this is actually Hannibal the Cannibal.”

“Oh, but he can make it all the painful, though,” Zack growled.

Starling snickered. “Oh, I’m sure. If not for the process, then for his inability to shut up.” Dr. Lecter marveled at her stamina, the trust in her unmovable façade. Not many could insult him to his face and provoke a desire to take her and make her scream his name without inflicting injury. Though, he reflected, there was the possibility that she would be sore afterward.

Pleasant musings.

“Clarice,” Zack called from the back. “Could you possibly put in a little music?” The charm was already coming back to him.

At the sound of her cousin’s voice, Clarice secreted a devious grin, forgetting her formerly angry disposition and leaning forward to select a CD from her collection. “Oh yes,” she replied, plucking one from the assortment and being quite sure that Dr. Lecter could not see. “I hope everyone likes Queen.”

“We’re ready Freddy!” Slater yelled.

“Dumbass!” Jessie cried out as she poked him in his ribs, and moved to defend the dumbass. “Dr. Lecter, sir, please don’t hurt him. He’s drunk. Normally, he’s a wonderful man.”

“My apologies, Ms. Spano,” Dr. Lecter replied softly, ignoring the face full of Bohemian Rhapsody that began to blast through the speakers. “I’m sure Clarice could tell you how I react to those who challenge her integrity.”

“By playing a Wayne’s World favorite,” she agreed. “Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality…”

“This is all my fault.” Kelly began cry. “All my fault.”

“No, no,” Zack whispered softly to her as he broke momentarily from the song.

“Well actually…yah it is. If she wasn’t such a whore this wouldn’t have happened,” Slater sneered.

That’s when the backseat turned into chaos.

Somehow Zack squirmed free from under Kelly and lunged across the backseat and began bashing Slater’s head against the car.

The car swerved as the conflict in the back turned catastrophic. Dr. Lecter wasn’t in the position to see, but he did catch a glimpse of Slater’s crown crashing through the backseat window. Then everyone was screaming as Clarice attempted to keep her cool. Before she knew what was happening, Dr. Lecter had assumed a position of authority, lurching for the wheel with possessive dictation. Of course, he made sure to brush against her as much as possible, despite the frenzy of the situation. It was sheer luck that the car was just turning onto the street that housed their destination. For the remainder of the ride, it was grasp and pull, scream and yell, incessantly until the car came to a screeching halt in the driveway.

Collecting his cool, Dr. Lecter flashed a winning smile at Clarice, whom was all but crushed with his body weight. He nipped at her mouth playfully before he announced, “I believe we have arrived.”

As soon as the car came to a complete stop, everyone in the back began scrambling for safety. Lisa had a black eye, Screech had a bloody nose, Jessie’s body was in pain from being bashed against the car and Kelly had a bleeding lip. Even in turmoil that followed the initial punch, everyone had instinctively given the pregnant woman space.

Slater and Zack on the other hand were a different story. The total damage was unable to be fully determined since Zack had thrown Slater out of the car and jumped him in the driveway. The look in his eyes flashed as if he could kill this man with his bare hands.

Perhaps he would have done more damage had Dr. Lecter not forfeited his compromising position on top of Clarice. With minimal effort, he heaved Zack off his friend, tossing him aside like an unwanted toy. Then he knelt forward and seized the near-unconscious Slater from the ground, again bringing his Harpy into view.

Dr. Lecter then turned to Zack, who would have been glaring daggers had he not known the murderous abilities of the man in front of him. “Let us not spoil our supper, shall we? I do not prefer my meat black and blue.”

“You mean you’re gonna EAT him?” Screech questioned, actually beginning to get the picture. “You mean you’re REALLY Dr. Hannibal ‘The Cannibal’ Lecter? My mommy used to tell me nightmares about you to make me shut up.”

Clarice, a little flushed, had finally managed to free herself from the seatbelt. Even she, who had an abundant amount of patience when it came to dealing with the mentally impaired was about convinced that it was time someone shut him up for good. “Of course he’s fucking Hannibal the Cannibal! What the hell do you think we’ve been talking about since we left the restaurant?!”

“Fucking Hannibal the Cannibal,” Dr. Lecter mused, eyes mischievously sparkling as he eyed her burning face. “That is something I would like to see you try.”

“But something I wouldn’t care to see you try, Clarice,” Zack said, regaining composure and picking himself off the ground. He didn’t look as bad as Slater by far, but he was still quite a bloody mess. “Dammit Clarice, I’m sorry. I’ll pay for everything.” His eyes were flickering over the wreckage that had once been her car.

“I also apologize to you, Dr. Lecter. I’m sorry you had to witness this circus.” (COME TO THE CIRCUS, THE GREATEST SHOW IN TOWN, COME TO THE CIRCUS, CHA-CHA-CHA!) “I give you full disposal of the clown and the jack-ass,” he stated as he motioned to Slater and Screech.

Dr. Lecter smiled, knowing Zack couldn’t have stopped him even if he tried. The idea of some college student standing in his way was laughable, even if he knew his intentions were meant with the best intent. “Thank you, Mr. Morris, but I doubt highly that you would want to stand in my way, all things considered.”

“Touché, Cecil.” He figured that was most certainly where Clarice had picked up the vocabulary, though didn’t know why he felt compelled to add the ‘Cecil.’ He knew he couldn’t stop him, but wanted to signal that he was behind him 100%. The new expression that flashed in Zack’s eyes was a look neither Kelly nor Clarice had ever seen. It was his first face of pure evil.

If there was ever a chance for Clarice to back out, it was now. So far, no blood had been spilt, but things were rapidly headed in that direction. Everyone knew it. Dr. Lecter reflected that perhaps there was one who could dictate the final decision. However, any sign of objection was void of her expression. He knew that Slater—and likely Screech—would meet a bloody fate, but the elaborations of his intricate inner workings were progressing to the dinner. If she continued this line of indifference, he intended to prepare a last supper that none would soon forget.

“Hmmm,” the doctor mused. “That is rather slippery of you, Mr. Morris. I suppose that also runs in the family.”

Before she knew what she was saying, Clarice muttered, “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

“Zack,” Jessie began, “Let’s get out of here. This has gone too far. I know you’re mad at Slater, but putting him in the hands of the FBI’s most wanted felon is a bit too much.” She turned to Zack’s cousin, eyes wide and pleading. “Clarice, talk some sense into him.”

Zack just stared at Clarice with the first hint of concern. As the rain came down again, he found himself motionless and drenched. A cold look filled his eyes as the blood and water dripped onto the cement.

Clarice looked sharply to Dr. Lecter, eyes flickering with indecision. He saw the conflict battling within her, and to his utter content, he was given verification that she didn’t want him to leave. It was lovely witnessing her corruption consume her at last, and at this early stage. With an equally malevolent smile, she looked up and snickered. “So, Dr. Lecter…what’s for dinner?”

“That’s it. If you’ve lost your wits, that’s fine, Zack. See you in a federal institution soon, but I’m saving your friends and your wife. Come on, guys,” Jessie said to Lisa, Screech, and Kelly. Everyone but Kelly quickly sprinted for the street. She stared blankly at Zack for guidance. He could only begin to imagine the thoughts going through her poor little head, but at the immediate moment he still wasn’t happy enough with her to care. He did know one thing as they stood in the rain. Between him and Dr. Lecter, no one was going anywhere.

Indeed, Dr. Lecter was not about to let these innocent bystanders (and Screech) escape. Mercilessly, he tapped the blade against his teeth and approached. “Ms. Spano,” he hissed, “I do not believe you have the liberty of deciding your destination at this particular juncture. I promised to provide your dinner, and I always keep my word.”

Jessie immediately turned around and headed toward the house, and Lisa and Screech consequently followed. Jessie didn’t want to be the midnight snack, but she couldn’t think of how she was going to survive the night with what she was destined to witness in the upcoming minutes.

Clarice turned to Zack. “You were right about one thing…the negotiations were short.”

“I’m dead?” Screech began to tremble uncontrollably.

“After your continuous displays of lack of brainpower, I’m surprised you lasted this long,” Clarice sniped. Dr. Lecter flashed a grin at her.

Inside, the doctor instructed Zack to prop Slater against Clarice’s kitchen table. There, he again brought his Harpy into view and grinned maliciously. “What’s it to be?” he asked the general audience. “Bowels in or out?”

“Whichever hurts him the most.” Zack smirked.

“I think I am going to be sick,” Kelly announced as she ran toward the bathroom. After turning and heading out the garage door she abruptly flashed around and asked weakly, “Where is the bathroom?”

“Down the hall and to the left,” Clarice replied. She turned to the crowd that had gathered around the table.

Dr. Lecter was unmoved in his attentions. “Oh, you’re confused,” he murmured unsympathetically. Slater was sweating bullets, but unfortunately there was no gun to put them in. “Then I’ll decide for you, if you permit me.”

A quick slash of Slater’s front and he was a goner. There was a brief muffled cry of protest, but the vocalization was drown out by the screams that inevitably followed from the female observers as blood sprayed across the floor. Dr. Lecter expressionlessly heaved the body forward as Slater omitted a final gasp, eyes falling to his bowels as they splattered across the pearly white tiles next to the kitchen sink. He then released one final croak and fell back dead.

Jessie broke down and raced to his side. “I loved him. I honestly never stopped.”

Lisa passed out behind the crowd.

“I will love you until my dying day, A.C,” Jessie cried as she sobbed into the red puddle. Tears splashed into the sick concoction swimming across the kitchen floor.

Dr. Lecter delivered Clarice a look that informed her that Jessie’s dying day might be closer than she anticipated. However, he was pleased to note that Zack’s conviction hadn’t paled with the receiving of his wish. Rather, the young man appeared rather encouraged. Kelly, on the other hand, returned from the bathroom, saw the mess, and retreated once more.

“Well,” the doctor said, provocatively licking his lips. Notably, he and Clarice were the only ones unmoved. They had long been accustomed to such violence. “Dinner in an hour, I’d say.”

On the table, a final breath escaped the recently deceased; prying passed lifeless lips in the form of a blood bubble.

“Make it an hour and a half.”

Zack steered Jessie away from the bloody mess and shot a glance to Dr. Lecter. “She has been my best friend since preschool. Besides Kelly, she was my favorite playmate,” he said with a humorous twinkle in his eyes, saying that two was quite enough for one night.

As he took Jessie toward the bathroom, he met Kelly in the hall. She turned immediately and headed back in the other direction. Zack followed and was soon knocking on the door saying, “Dammit, Kelly, I’m going to have to clean her up sooner or later.”

In the kitchen, Dr. Lecter instructed everyone except Clarice to immediately vacate. However, he warned, not to go too far or to try anything foolish. Screech and Lisa consigned to retreat to the living room, where they caught the start of Fraiser.

“Dr. Lecter,” Clarice whispered, familiar doubt clouding her tone. “I’m not sure I can do this.”

“Sure you can. Do you own a skillet?”

“Ardelia does. Top left hand cabinet.”

“And spices. I believe our meal will entail spices.”

“Coming up.”

By the time the arrangements were prepared, Dr. Lecter had somehow donned a chef’s hat and a white apron.

“Oregano all right?” Clarice stopped as she realized exactly what she was handing the psychopathic madman. He only smiled at her, took it from her grasp, and delivered a wink.

“It’s all right,” he said, but things couldn’t be all right. She was an hour and a half away from dining on her cousin’s former best friend.

Zack walked in with the comment, “I think cumin goes best with human.” With that he looked into the living room to see four of the five people he had came with. He looked to the stove and saw the other.

With that he said, “I’m curious Dr. Lecter as to the rest of your plans for my friends and family?”

“And I am curious, Mr. Morris, how it is you know that cumin goes best with human,” Dr. Lecter retorted pointedly. “As for your friends and family…I have not fully decided. Though I do not usually approve of harming young women, Ms. Spano has certainly tried my patience enough for one evening. However, I give you my word…” He looked to Clarice, who had his word long ago never to call on her. While the promise remained relatively unbroken—he had not technically called on her, Zack had—this was crossing some boundaries. “No harm will come to your wife.”

“My family is of the most importance to me, but if you spare Jessie, though she is rather annoying at times, and Lisa, I would appreciate it. With that I feel assured that no harm will come to Clarice. Other than that all I can say is that I had a hunch about the cumin.”

Dr. Lecter chuckled, as though the thought of any harm initiated from his hand coming to Clarice was a matter of great amusement. Seductively, he looked to her and winked. “Oh no…I assure you, nothing will happen to your cousin while I am on the guard. Well, nothing that she couldn’t stand to have happen.”

“I’m sorry if the fact that the girl I used to shoot Barbies with a BB gun with being hit on before my eyes, by a cannibal, no less, makes me feel slightly uncomfortable.”

Dr. Lecter’s humor only increased. “I daresay, you should have seen us in Memphis. She expressed her true feelings for me.”

“Clarice, I dare to say, please tell me the details later. Also, before I go, I was wondering if you wanted me to put together a salad of something?”

A look over overwhelmed bewilderment overcame Clarice’s features. She was torn between intensely infatuated with Dr. Lecter’s continuous advances and the mindset of keeping her cousin at ease, all with trying to decipher her feelings about the matter. “No, that’s all right, Zack. I’ll prepare the appetizer.”

Zack didn’t seem willing to leave her alone; the doctor’s grin was less than encouraging.

“I know you can take care of yourself, Clarice,” he said as he walked into the living room. Zack looked across the room to see his wife sitting in a traumatized stupor. “Kelly,” he said calling her over.

“Yes. I’m so sorry. ” She searched his eyes for any sign of forgiveness.

“It’s not your fault. He lied to you. To both of us. I trusted him to keep an eye on you as I started my new job. I didn’t know he wanted to keep a lot more than just his eyes on you. It’s all over now. Dr. Lecter took care of it. All I care about is you and the baby.”

“What about Screech and the girls?” she whispered.

“Well, Screech is only a matter of time. Jessie is definitely not on the Doctor’s good side, but I think Lisa is off the hook. He has promised not to hurt you and I hope I don’t piss him off too much.”

“And Clarice?”

“There is no need to worry. She’s a big girl and she can take care of herself. Besides I think he’s too busy hitting on her to think of hurting her.”

Kelly’s eyes widened, perhaps at the suggestion of a cannibal making passes at her cousin-in-law, perhaps at the knowledge that Jessie and Lisa could soon join the good doctor’s crap list.

Inside the kitchen, though, things were only steamy in one manner—the water was boiling. As soon as Zack vacated the room, Dr. Lecter had assumed a professional frontage, giving Clarice sideways glances, of course, but never anything to make her uncomfortable. Either way, she wasn’t paying attention; too engrossed in the salad and cursing her undeveloped cooking skills. After all, an appetizer shouldn’t be that stressful.

If anyone is actually reading this, the BtVS cast will make an appearance shortly. We promise...and apologize.
Next Chapter
StoryReviewsStatisticsRelated StoriesTracking