disclaimer: lecter ain't mine, so there!
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I floated back to reality listening to the strains of Bach's Goldberg Variations. I had recently downloaded it off the net (despite my country's great liquor policies, it has really crappy music stores. Grrrr!), and had driven my sister crazy playing it over and over again. I let out a long sigh, thinking I was home and meeting the doctor had been a really crazy dream. That is until a cool and refined voice cut through the clouds of my consciousness.
"I see you are awake. Welcome back to the living, Miss DeLa Vega."
I opened my eyes. Doctor Lecter was sitting in the chair in front of the one I was in. a bottle of Chateau Petrus' stood on the table in between. The table was the only thing separating me from him. I started to look the room over.
As mentioned, I was seated comfortably in a large armchair in front of a large window. The room was sumptuously appointed, with large paintings and a whole load of antiques, far beyond any normal teacher's salary. Of course Doctor Lecter was no ordinary teacher. And I was no ordinary student.
"Would you like some?" I turned my attention back to the doctor.
"I beg your pardon?" remembering how important it was to be polite.
"Would you like some?" He repeated, raising his wineglass.
"Do I look old enough to drink, doctor?"
"Come now, Ms. DeLa Vega. Surely you and your friends enjoyed much more potent liquor at the theatre the other night."
Oh God, he remembered.
"Point taken, doctor." I smiled, feeling silly. He filled another glass and handed it to me.
"So, Miss DeLa Vega, what brings you here?" He regarded me intently with those piercing maroon eyes.
"Well, Doctor," I took a sip. Hey, it was good. But then, I shouldn't be surprised. What else could be expected from a man with doctor Lecter's tastes? "I left my binder in the chemistry lab." I took another sip.
"Ah yes, the one with the rather charming caption on the front. What did it say again? Homo Sapiens Sapiens: The Other White Meat. How quaint."
The conversation was running smoothly now. "Well, I got it off the net, doctor. I'm afraid I have very little originality."
"Really, Ms. DeLa Vega. Do not belittle yourself so. I know I never did."
"Of course, you on the other hand have a monstrous ego."
Oh my God. Why did I say that? This was it, I was done for. I am soooo going to die. To my surprise, doctor Lecter laughed.
"You know, you are a rather surprisingly outspoken young lwoman. I find that refreshing, after all the stuffiness of the faculty meetings. Really, quite a bore. Tell me, Miss DeLa Vega,…"
"Gunner," I cut him off. "Really doctor, this is getting quite tedious. Nobody calls me Miss DeLa Vega. And I believe you did ask if you could call me Gunner." He looked stunned. "The ball is in your court, doctor."
Doctor Lecter cocked his head to one side. "And what do your teachers call you?"
"A pain," he let out a bark of laughter. "At least that's what I've heard."
"I wouldn't be surprised." He looked at the great grandfather clock in the corner. It was half-past eight. "What time do you have to get home?"
"Does it really matter?" I was in loathe to leave his company.
"But of course. Your parents shall be worried."
"Not really. Sometimes they don't even know I'm gone, or that I haven't some home from school."
"Do they care so little for you?"
"No," I grinned. "I'm just very good at sneaking in and out the house. I just lock the door to my room all the time, and escape through the window. They simply assume I am home. One should never assume."
"I see." That stare again. "What does your mother do?"
"She's a doctor. A surgeon."
"And your father?"
"Another surgeon."
"So you come from a medical family?"
"Damn right. Oh, pardon my French." He arched a brow.
"Pray, continue."
"Okay. My grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, etc. all of the whole lousy lot of them doctors, dentists, or something related to the medical profession."
"Is that why you chose to take a pre-medical course?"
"Seemed like a logical choice."
"Hmmmmm. And how are you enjoying your studies?"
"Frankly doctor, they bore the hell out of me, if such a thing is even possible."
"And why is that?" he poured me another glass of wine. I hadn't even noticed it was empty.
"Because they teach me nothing I don't already know."
"That seems reasonable. Have you ever been to an autopsy, a dissection?"
"No," I admitted. "We don't get to do that until we go to medical school."
There was a wicked gleam in his eye. Giving me a conspiratorial look; "Come with me, and don't forget the wine…."
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please r/r. thanx. if you feel the urge to flame me, do it via e-mail, okey-dokey?
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I floated back to reality listening to the strains of Bach's Goldberg Variations. I had recently downloaded it off the net (despite my country's great liquor policies, it has really crappy music stores. Grrrr!), and had driven my sister crazy playing it over and over again. I let out a long sigh, thinking I was home and meeting the doctor had been a really crazy dream. That is until a cool and refined voice cut through the clouds of my consciousness.
"I see you are awake. Welcome back to the living, Miss DeLa Vega."
I opened my eyes. Doctor Lecter was sitting in the chair in front of the one I was in. a bottle of Chateau Petrus' stood on the table in between. The table was the only thing separating me from him. I started to look the room over.
As mentioned, I was seated comfortably in a large armchair in front of a large window. The room was sumptuously appointed, with large paintings and a whole load of antiques, far beyond any normal teacher's salary. Of course Doctor Lecter was no ordinary teacher. And I was no ordinary student.
"Would you like some?" I turned my attention back to the doctor.
"I beg your pardon?" remembering how important it was to be polite.
"Would you like some?" He repeated, raising his wineglass.
"Do I look old enough to drink, doctor?"
"Come now, Ms. DeLa Vega. Surely you and your friends enjoyed much more potent liquor at the theatre the other night."
Oh God, he remembered.
"Point taken, doctor." I smiled, feeling silly. He filled another glass and handed it to me.
"So, Miss DeLa Vega, what brings you here?" He regarded me intently with those piercing maroon eyes.
"Well, Doctor," I took a sip. Hey, it was good. But then, I shouldn't be surprised. What else could be expected from a man with doctor Lecter's tastes? "I left my binder in the chemistry lab." I took another sip.
"Ah yes, the one with the rather charming caption on the front. What did it say again? Homo Sapiens Sapiens: The Other White Meat. How quaint."
The conversation was running smoothly now. "Well, I got it off the net, doctor. I'm afraid I have very little originality."
"Really, Ms. DeLa Vega. Do not belittle yourself so. I know I never did."
"Of course, you on the other hand have a monstrous ego."
Oh my God. Why did I say that? This was it, I was done for. I am soooo going to die. To my surprise, doctor Lecter laughed.
"You know, you are a rather surprisingly outspoken young lwoman. I find that refreshing, after all the stuffiness of the faculty meetings. Really, quite a bore. Tell me, Miss DeLa Vega,…"
"Gunner," I cut him off. "Really doctor, this is getting quite tedious. Nobody calls me Miss DeLa Vega. And I believe you did ask if you could call me Gunner." He looked stunned. "The ball is in your court, doctor."
Doctor Lecter cocked his head to one side. "And what do your teachers call you?"
"A pain," he let out a bark of laughter. "At least that's what I've heard."
"I wouldn't be surprised." He looked at the great grandfather clock in the corner. It was half-past eight. "What time do you have to get home?"
"Does it really matter?" I was in loathe to leave his company.
"But of course. Your parents shall be worried."
"Not really. Sometimes they don't even know I'm gone, or that I haven't some home from school."
"Do they care so little for you?"
"No," I grinned. "I'm just very good at sneaking in and out the house. I just lock the door to my room all the time, and escape through the window. They simply assume I am home. One should never assume."
"I see." That stare again. "What does your mother do?"
"She's a doctor. A surgeon."
"And your father?"
"Another surgeon."
"So you come from a medical family?"
"Damn right. Oh, pardon my French." He arched a brow.
"Pray, continue."
"Okay. My grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, etc. all of the whole lousy lot of them doctors, dentists, or something related to the medical profession."
"Is that why you chose to take a pre-medical course?"
"Seemed like a logical choice."
"Hmmmmm. And how are you enjoying your studies?"
"Frankly doctor, they bore the hell out of me, if such a thing is even possible."
"And why is that?" he poured me another glass of wine. I hadn't even noticed it was empty.
"Because they teach me nothing I don't already know."
"That seems reasonable. Have you ever been to an autopsy, a dissection?"
"No," I admitted. "We don't get to do that until we go to medical school."
There was a wicked gleam in his eye. Giving me a conspiratorial look; "Come with me, and don't forget the wine…."
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please r/r. thanx. if you feel the urge to flame me, do it via e-mail, okey-dokey?