The next few seconds passed slowly, Starling looking from Mapp to Dr.
Lecter, trying to ascertain a connection but finding none. Dr. Lecter kept
his gaze leveled at her, regarding his newly established alliance with her
friend as nonexistent. They might as well have been alone in the room.
Finally, when she was tired of summoning new ideas only to have logic beat them down, Starling shook her head and allowed her eyes to drop. "All right, all right," she conceded. "I give. What are you—" She glanced upward again, nodding in Mapp's direction, "—doing with her?"
"Nothing funny, Clarice," Dr. Lecter replied with an amused smile, and she released some of her tension. His eyes glinted with familiar humor. "I guarantee you. A few—"
Abruptly, she cut him off, almost without thinking. Starling's astonishment was in mid-transformation, trying to decide between irritation and relief. Instead, she turned to Mapp, acknowledging her fully for the first time since Dr. Lecter's grand entrance. "All right. Let me rephrase. What are you doing with him?"
"It's a long story, girlfriend."
"I can imagine. I don't recall him being on your top ten list, last we spoke." Without realizing it, her temper had flared. So many little things could trigger it these days. Starling didn't pause for self- evaluation. She was confused, slightly irritated, and, on a level, felt betrayed. Why hadn't Mapp told her during their conversation? Was everyone conspiring against her now?
A soft touch on her shoulder deactivated her, coursing a shudder to ripple through her nerves. The breech of physical contact, despite the context, was welcome. It coaxed her to hazard a glance at him. Once their eyes connected, Starling released a breath, as well as her repression.
"I'm sorry," she said softly, though not knowing for what for a minute. Forcing herself back to the present, she looked down. "I think anything just about now's pissing me off."
"It's a normal reaction, Clarice. Come now, sit if you will." Courteously, Dr. Lecter motioned for the edge of the bed, turning to house himself in a rather uncomfortable chair. Once they locked gazes again, she reflected the same man she had known for a decade with the same air of arrogance, even if it was coated with compassion. For a fleeting instant, she didn't know whether to laugh or scream her fury. This man had no emotional reaction to any situation.
That lent her pause. No, no…he had showed her one before.
Before Starling could travel that road again, he spoke, driving her back to the present. "You have been keeping your wits about you, I see. Admirable. How does it feel to have probable cause for such a negative spotlight? Accusations singe, I'm sure, true or not. You and your ever- firm dedication to morality must be raging with unexplored ambiance."
How typical. He manages her into these messes then asks her how that makes her feel. Starling nearly snickered to herself, still itching to know how this unlikely pact between two strangers—undeclared enemies—not to mention the closest people to her was formed. However, she decided it was best to comply. He wanted answers, of course. So did she.
Nonetheless, she forfeited nothing lightly. When Starling raised her head again, her eyes shined like birthstones. "'The course of my disgrace and public shaming,' do you mean? I guess I really do lack perspective. How do you think it feels, Doctor Lecter?" When his eyes narrowed at her, she feigned a casual shrug. Cynicism struck her fiber, influencing her mouth with the wear and tear of ten neglected, exhausted years. "It feels great. Superb. I love it. Tell me something, Doctor. How does it feel to be right all the fucking time? Don't you get tired of it? Isn't it boring after a while? Predictable? Tedious? Or does the thrill of gloating renew its taste with every pinch?"
In the corner, Mapp's eyes widened, almost flabbergasted. It occurred to Starling that she had never played witness to their casual banter, never fully comprehended the levels of unspoken understanding of this bizarre relationship. The look she delivered was one of utmost horror. Without having to speak, she betrayed herself. Her eyes read full warning, traveling nervously to Dr. Lecter, who wasn't paying her the least bit of attention. He hadn't so much as looked her way since they last spoke directly.
Instead, his voice level, he replied calmly, "Now, now…you know I am above the timeless 'I told you so' repartee. I won't deny that it was entirely predictable, and that you should have seen it yourself. However, desire tends to fog your judgment, Clarice." The words hung unpleasantly in the air, and they exchanged meaningful glances. When the moment stretched and threatened to turn uncomfortable, he grinned solemnly and continued, "You clearly desired your place in the Bureau. There is no doubt that you deserved it. And now you're clouded with disillusionment. You're truly starting to walk in my footsteps. As for being right all the time, I do find it's a pleasant addition."
"You should bet on horses," she replied when she could think of nothing else, fire drenched from her eyes, voice guttural. "Or get your own psychic hotline. Dr. Cleo."
This felt good, the extremity of casual dialogue, talking to him without caring where her gun was or how she might wiggle him into a pair of handcuffs. Without having to think of stories or offers in which to contrive their humor. Just being Clarice Starling. That in itself was a liberating novelty.
His eyes twinkled with challenge, as though reading her thoughts. "Not the most flattering occupation, Clarice. I do abhor those advertisements. I don't believe I would be living up to my reputation if I joined the Psychic Connection."
"Psychic, psycho…same thing. You're already as annoying as hell…why not get rich off it?" At her words, Dr. Lecter's eyes widened dangerously. Starling bit her lower lip, tossing Mapp a glance and emitting a hearty laugh. "Good God, Ardelia!" she exclaimed. "You look like you're going to piss your pants."
Her friend reddened considerably but didn't answer.
"How did you two get here?" Starling asked finally. "And why are you together, if you're so scared of him, 'Delia?"
"I'm afraid that might be at my blame," Dr. Lecter answered.
"I wouldn't be surprised. Most things are."
"Can't you two do this some other time?" Mapp finally erupted. "I don't get it…I just don't get it. And I don't care to get it." When she earned a gaze from Starling, she continued. "He found me. He'd been watching the news, obviously. And—"
"You're trembling, Ms. Mapp," he intervened. "Would you prefer I tell the story?"
"Fine." She shook her head lethargically. "Driving here was nuts. He kept scaring the shit out of me in the car."
Starling pursed her lips together to control her mirth. "I'm surprised he didn't annoy the shit out of you." She looked back to Dr. Lecter, reflecting his dancing pupils. Whether he was enjoying the side- discussions, the direct and fearless statements made about his character, or the fact that he had succeeded in terrifying yet another individual was entirely trivial. It was most likely a combination of a number of things. "Anyway…continue."
"Ah, well," he began. "Once your dilemma became public knowledge, I decided it would be a trifle discourteous to subject you to such dehumanization, especially since I was intimately connected. Oh, that's not to say that I did not toy with simply sitting back to watch your ruin, Clarice, and it would be fallacious to pretend that a glimmer of brief delight did not attack to see what I had always anticipated unfolding before my very eyes. It was the sort of triumph that both sings and smarts in one blow. However, in the end, I could not leave you to the media hounds, not when your intentions seemed so thoroughly noble. And yet, I similarly could not risk capture, or chance your spontaneous change of heart and foreseeable resentment. Thus, I determined the best approach was through the only person I know to hold your trust. I traveled to Denton, scouted for Ms. Mapp, and caught up with her in the parking lot after one of her conferences with a student's parents. A late night 'Open House' affair, I believe it was." Pausing, he turned to Mapp and arched his brows. "Feel free to intervene should I misinterpret something."
Starling cracked a brief smile, despite stirring vibes of irritation at his admittance that he had nearly decided not to come. To simply sit back and enjoy her demise. A voice screamed within her that she hadn't wanted him to come, that it was more dangerous here, but knowing he had considered was bittersweet. Oh well. She likely deserved it.
"I'm not going to butt in. No way in hell," Mapp declared, almost defensively. "You must be outta your…ummm…I'm not going to interrupt."
"As you wish," Dr. Lecter returned simply, fastened in a warring gaze with Starling once more. "I admit, I had less than orthodox methods of gaining her attention. I—"
"He snuck up behind me and held a fucking blade to my throat!" she screamed suddenly, despite the promise made seconds before. "Then he told me to drive home and not make a sound. I about crapped my pants!"
"Funny how I seem to have a continuous adverse affect on your digestive system," he commented dryly.
"Will someone please continue!" Starling snapped, though she was inwardly doubled over with laughter. For no reason in particular, the Addams Family theme struck her subconscious and began to play incessantly.
Dr. Lecter was perversely agreeable and willing to comply. It was almost suspicious, but then it wasn't at all. If there was anything she had learned over the past ten years, it was his ever-persistent drive to be both insufferably exasperating and invariably unpredictable. "Certainly. Do you wish to continue, Ms. Mapp, or should I?"
"Go ahead."
"You sure? After all, you—"
"Just continue, Doc! I'm shutting up. I promise."
Starling thought about sharing her theory that Dr. Lecter had been locked away originally just to shut him up, but decided that enough was enough. Besides, she still had unanswered questions. Somewhere in the back of her mind, the old verse that time and tide wait for no man echoed.
For the umpteenth time, she looked to him and saw amusement dancing in his pupils. "Go Doctor," she said softly, though demanding.
"As you wish," he replied, making her fight off a smile at the thought. "I instructed her to drive to her home. Once there, I restrained her to a chair and allowed a few minutes of unbridled screaming for help. I know you haven't visited since her move, Clarice, but Ms. Mapp's home is quite secluded; far outside the city limits. Needless to say, no one heard a thing. She calmed when she saw I wielded no blade, that my Harpy was momentarily out of reach, and finally thought to ask to what she owed the pleasure."
At that, Starling arched a skeptical eyebrow.
"Actually," Mapp corrected. "I think I said, 'All right, fuck a duck, you win. What the hell are you doing here?' Something like that."
"Mmm…yes. Artful use of language, I must say. Continuing, I told her that I was visiting on your behalf, Clarice. I explained the situation I had put you in and estimated the events to follow. I told her what you were facing, and that I had your best interest in mind," Dr. Lecter said slowly, holding her with his eyes, all tease aside.
Subconsciously, Mapp broke the tender moment. "Which I didn't believe, of course. He got you into this shit, right? I figured why the hell would he be trying to get you out?"
"You really are true to your word, aren't you?" He remarked snidely. "If you would prefer to tell the story, by all means—"
"No! No…go right ahead."
For Starling, watching the continuous struggle for authority in the storytelling process only reminded her how very much they both, albeit differently, influenced her life, what they meant to her. Mapp would always be the voice of reason. If it couldn't be done her way, then there wasn't any point in wasting your time. The constant 'tell it like it is' approach to any situation was something no sensible person would miss. Everything, it seemed, had been easier when they shared a duplex. And Dr. Lecter for his seriousness and compassion, his interest and wit, his insight and, yes, even his ego. How many years had she lived relying on his advice, even if he wasn't standing beside her? What was a life without that? What sort of life had it been?
Watching him now made her realize how very important his voice was to her, his input. While it had always been there, the understanding merged into consciousness with such abrupt sharpness that it forced her to pause in reflection and catch her breath.
Knowing she could hide nothing from him, Starling reflected no surprise when Dr. Lecter reacted to her impulsive, however subtle huff. Instead, he simply nodded as his lips formed the word, "Later." And while he had not spoken, she shivered just the same.
"After I explained my disposition to Ms. Mapp," he continued, not breaking his professional sheath, "and several reassurances and a few examples of my noble intentions, she finally conceded to assist me in arriving relatively unscathed on my white stallion."
"A white Toyota, actually, but who needs details?" Mapp said with a shrug.
Starling's eyes narrowed in spite of herself. "You don't strike me as the white stallions…or Toyotas type, Doctor."
Shooting her a grin, he shrugged, and the single motion both infuriated her and made her sear with endearment. "I'm doing my best to remain conspicuous, Clarice. A man must improvise. It would seem a tad suspicious if a masked visitor arrived on the back of Cerberus, wouldn't you say?"
She barked a laugh, shaking her head. "I was scared shitless you were going to do something like this."
That insufferable smile of his! How could he appear thoughtful, arrogant, sympathetic, superior, and utterly irresistible in the simple twitch of the lips? "Like what?" he asked inevitably, coaxing an eye roll out of her. He knew damn well what.
"Like this! Come to see me…whether by horseback, in a Toyota, or with the company of a three-headed dog. Do you have any idea how closely I'm being monitored? Hell, there might be a SWAT team outside this hotel room."
"I took all the necessary precautions into consideration," Dr. Lecter assured her. "As far as the world needs to know – or doesn't, but that's another issue – you are simply visiting a friend from out of town. I also regarded the possibility that your recent plight was simply a lure to provoke me to come to your aid, which is why Ms. Mapp's phone call was absolutely essential."
"You listened?"
"Every word."
Starling wondered if Dr. Lecter had sat with his ear tentatively close to the phone or relied on his eerie accuracy from across the room, but decided the next minute that he would have tried to scare Mapp in every way imaginable. Having a madman's notorious teeth so close to so many pressure points when her insides were already rebelling must have unnerved her to no end. Funny how the same madman's mouth pressed to hers in a moment of undeclared passion could raise none of those fears within her. Peril was more apparent then, and the clock was ticking. She glanced to her friend, expecting another comment about the nether regions.
When Mapp called her looking intently, she blinked in confusion and finally smiled. "Yes, he did scare the shit out of me."
"My good word seems to be losing its credibility," Dr. Lecter considered with a mock sigh, though it was easily deciphered that he was amused, even pleased, that he could frighten without being frightening. "Even if I don't recall jeopardizing it."
"So what now?" Starling asked when she saw Mapp was going to snap a reply. No need to go on a power play. She learned that lesson long ago and was still reaping the affects.
"Well, this is fun," her friend said drolly, more to herself. "Throw in a keg and a couple of chickens and you have prom night."
Mapp intentionally ignored the stares that comment deserved.
"That depends, Clarice," Dr. Lecter observed, dismissing her friend again, leaning forward, almost dangerously. "Do you still want my help, or has the price been too much for you?"
Her eyes narrowed. "What the fuck do you think, genius?"
Another rich laugh, another look of utter paranoia from Mapp.
"Pardon me if I must ask you to reaffirm yourself ever so often, my dear. I did live with your reasoning for ten years, did I not? How am I to know there's not an inkling of morality writhing within you, just aching to be discovered?"
This was sinfully gratifying. Even when she was knee high in shit, she could still manage to have a good time. Rising to the challenge, Starling perked both brows and retorted, "Yes, because that makes sense. Let's not only lose my job, but the escape from my job."
"Am I an escape, Clarice?"
"You tell me."
"I only offered advice. Are you suggesting a hidden innuendo?"
"From you?" she scoffed cynically. "Never. I laugh at the very thought."
His eyes twinkled at such careless though trusting defiance. "Ah, a Freudian slip, then?"
"Why ask me? You seem to have all the answers."
From the corner, Mapp erupted again. "PLEASE! Doctor, do her ass a favor and take it with you, wherever you're going. Starling, stop being your usual stubborn self and admit that you want to go. One of you…both of you…knock it off before you give me a fucking heart attack!"
The corners of Dr. Lecter's mouth tugged in a tight smile. "You are easily intimidated, aren't you?" he asked pointedly.
That coaxed a scowl out of her, a look Starling knew well. With strength and respite in her tone, Mapp replied firmly, "Do you think I would've told you to shut up if I was intimidated? No, I just don't see what's so goddamned funny. You two are just wasting time."
A swift knock at the door swiftly stole whatever retort lay coiled on Starling's tongue, and she felt her innards tremble. Amazingly, she failed to gasp, the tapping occurring too quickly to really make her reflect that the everyday sound should not exist in this room. When her breath froze in her throat, her eyes finally tore from Mapp's eyes to Dr. Lecter, but he was up and across the room, entering the lavatory though not shutting the door. That would be suspicious.
Again came the knocking. Not a word was shared between them. Starling hurriedly reclined and ruffled the blankets on the bed, rolling to turn down the sheets on the other. She had just flicked on the television and was casually flipping through channels when the rapping came once more, this time accompanied by a voice.
"Pizza!"
The air, if possible, grew thicker. Starling locked gazes with Mapp, pursing her lips to keep the excited giggle of relief from escaping. There was still that lingering possibility that…
Mapp opened the door. A greasy kid no more than nineteen stood at the threshold, looking rather irritated at the delay.
"Pizza?" he said impatiently.
Starling couldn't help it. Relief coursed her through her. All at once she felt like laughing, crying, singing, dancing, screaming…never had anything scared her that much. In a flash, it would have been over. Laughter poured from opened lips, and she doubled over in small quivers of liberation.
"What's wrong with her?" the kid asked dumbly, only increasing her hysterics.
"Did you order a pizza, 'Delia?" she asked when she had gained control of herself.
How her friend had kept from expressing the relief that poured through her eyes, Starling would never know but always envy. Perhaps because of everyone there, she had the littlest to lose. "No. I was going to," Mapp explained, turning back to the kid. "You must have the wrong room, sonny. Try a few doors down." She leaned over to examine the ticket. "Yeah, see? This is room twenty-three. That's a five."
"Sorry. My bad." As the kid looked upward again to gage Starling's laughing fit, she saw his eyes wander instead to the mirror that hung loosely above the dresser, frown in consideration, and finally freeze.
And just like that, it was over.
"Fuck no," she whispered, following his gaze, dread enveloping her once more. "Shit!"
The kid plopped the pizza box at Mapp's feet, wide-eyed as a scream pierced the air. He performed an about-face and took off down the hallway, yelling incoherencies that would soon make sense.
"Oh dear," Dr. Lecter sighed, stepping into the hall again.
"Fuck-fuckity-fuck-fuck-fuck," Starling growled. "Fuck, we gotta haul ass. What were you doing standing right there in the fucking doorway?"
"Have you noticed that your liking to profanity increases when you're anxious?" he asked. "And ironically limits to one word, all at the same time?"
Mapp tripped over the pizza box, her eyes wide with alarm. "Enough of that! I gotta get you two out of the city."
"Out of the city, Ms. Mapp? Think globally. The country is preferable."
"Will you two PLEASE stop talking like I'm not here?" Starling hissed, her mind warping. Small goosebumps spread across her skin, and her heart had not yet recovered. "I hadn't decided anything yet, and—"
Mapp shook her head defiantly. "You don't really have a choice, Starling. I gotta get out of here, too. I'll be in deep shit, in case you hadn't considered that. Aiding and abetting fucking Hannibal Lecter…that's beautiful. Girl, if you want out, there's your ticket," she nodded absently toward the doctor. "Take it or leave it."
Finally, when she was tired of summoning new ideas only to have logic beat them down, Starling shook her head and allowed her eyes to drop. "All right, all right," she conceded. "I give. What are you—" She glanced upward again, nodding in Mapp's direction, "—doing with her?"
"Nothing funny, Clarice," Dr. Lecter replied with an amused smile, and she released some of her tension. His eyes glinted with familiar humor. "I guarantee you. A few—"
Abruptly, she cut him off, almost without thinking. Starling's astonishment was in mid-transformation, trying to decide between irritation and relief. Instead, she turned to Mapp, acknowledging her fully for the first time since Dr. Lecter's grand entrance. "All right. Let me rephrase. What are you doing with him?"
"It's a long story, girlfriend."
"I can imagine. I don't recall him being on your top ten list, last we spoke." Without realizing it, her temper had flared. So many little things could trigger it these days. Starling didn't pause for self- evaluation. She was confused, slightly irritated, and, on a level, felt betrayed. Why hadn't Mapp told her during their conversation? Was everyone conspiring against her now?
A soft touch on her shoulder deactivated her, coursing a shudder to ripple through her nerves. The breech of physical contact, despite the context, was welcome. It coaxed her to hazard a glance at him. Once their eyes connected, Starling released a breath, as well as her repression.
"I'm sorry," she said softly, though not knowing for what for a minute. Forcing herself back to the present, she looked down. "I think anything just about now's pissing me off."
"It's a normal reaction, Clarice. Come now, sit if you will." Courteously, Dr. Lecter motioned for the edge of the bed, turning to house himself in a rather uncomfortable chair. Once they locked gazes again, she reflected the same man she had known for a decade with the same air of arrogance, even if it was coated with compassion. For a fleeting instant, she didn't know whether to laugh or scream her fury. This man had no emotional reaction to any situation.
That lent her pause. No, no…he had showed her one before.
Before Starling could travel that road again, he spoke, driving her back to the present. "You have been keeping your wits about you, I see. Admirable. How does it feel to have probable cause for such a negative spotlight? Accusations singe, I'm sure, true or not. You and your ever- firm dedication to morality must be raging with unexplored ambiance."
How typical. He manages her into these messes then asks her how that makes her feel. Starling nearly snickered to herself, still itching to know how this unlikely pact between two strangers—undeclared enemies—not to mention the closest people to her was formed. However, she decided it was best to comply. He wanted answers, of course. So did she.
Nonetheless, she forfeited nothing lightly. When Starling raised her head again, her eyes shined like birthstones. "'The course of my disgrace and public shaming,' do you mean? I guess I really do lack perspective. How do you think it feels, Doctor Lecter?" When his eyes narrowed at her, she feigned a casual shrug. Cynicism struck her fiber, influencing her mouth with the wear and tear of ten neglected, exhausted years. "It feels great. Superb. I love it. Tell me something, Doctor. How does it feel to be right all the fucking time? Don't you get tired of it? Isn't it boring after a while? Predictable? Tedious? Or does the thrill of gloating renew its taste with every pinch?"
In the corner, Mapp's eyes widened, almost flabbergasted. It occurred to Starling that she had never played witness to their casual banter, never fully comprehended the levels of unspoken understanding of this bizarre relationship. The look she delivered was one of utmost horror. Without having to speak, she betrayed herself. Her eyes read full warning, traveling nervously to Dr. Lecter, who wasn't paying her the least bit of attention. He hadn't so much as looked her way since they last spoke directly.
Instead, his voice level, he replied calmly, "Now, now…you know I am above the timeless 'I told you so' repartee. I won't deny that it was entirely predictable, and that you should have seen it yourself. However, desire tends to fog your judgment, Clarice." The words hung unpleasantly in the air, and they exchanged meaningful glances. When the moment stretched and threatened to turn uncomfortable, he grinned solemnly and continued, "You clearly desired your place in the Bureau. There is no doubt that you deserved it. And now you're clouded with disillusionment. You're truly starting to walk in my footsteps. As for being right all the time, I do find it's a pleasant addition."
"You should bet on horses," she replied when she could think of nothing else, fire drenched from her eyes, voice guttural. "Or get your own psychic hotline. Dr. Cleo."
This felt good, the extremity of casual dialogue, talking to him without caring where her gun was or how she might wiggle him into a pair of handcuffs. Without having to think of stories or offers in which to contrive their humor. Just being Clarice Starling. That in itself was a liberating novelty.
His eyes twinkled with challenge, as though reading her thoughts. "Not the most flattering occupation, Clarice. I do abhor those advertisements. I don't believe I would be living up to my reputation if I joined the Psychic Connection."
"Psychic, psycho…same thing. You're already as annoying as hell…why not get rich off it?" At her words, Dr. Lecter's eyes widened dangerously. Starling bit her lower lip, tossing Mapp a glance and emitting a hearty laugh. "Good God, Ardelia!" she exclaimed. "You look like you're going to piss your pants."
Her friend reddened considerably but didn't answer.
"How did you two get here?" Starling asked finally. "And why are you together, if you're so scared of him, 'Delia?"
"I'm afraid that might be at my blame," Dr. Lecter answered.
"I wouldn't be surprised. Most things are."
"Can't you two do this some other time?" Mapp finally erupted. "I don't get it…I just don't get it. And I don't care to get it." When she earned a gaze from Starling, she continued. "He found me. He'd been watching the news, obviously. And—"
"You're trembling, Ms. Mapp," he intervened. "Would you prefer I tell the story?"
"Fine." She shook her head lethargically. "Driving here was nuts. He kept scaring the shit out of me in the car."
Starling pursed her lips together to control her mirth. "I'm surprised he didn't annoy the shit out of you." She looked back to Dr. Lecter, reflecting his dancing pupils. Whether he was enjoying the side- discussions, the direct and fearless statements made about his character, or the fact that he had succeeded in terrifying yet another individual was entirely trivial. It was most likely a combination of a number of things. "Anyway…continue."
"Ah, well," he began. "Once your dilemma became public knowledge, I decided it would be a trifle discourteous to subject you to such dehumanization, especially since I was intimately connected. Oh, that's not to say that I did not toy with simply sitting back to watch your ruin, Clarice, and it would be fallacious to pretend that a glimmer of brief delight did not attack to see what I had always anticipated unfolding before my very eyes. It was the sort of triumph that both sings and smarts in one blow. However, in the end, I could not leave you to the media hounds, not when your intentions seemed so thoroughly noble. And yet, I similarly could not risk capture, or chance your spontaneous change of heart and foreseeable resentment. Thus, I determined the best approach was through the only person I know to hold your trust. I traveled to Denton, scouted for Ms. Mapp, and caught up with her in the parking lot after one of her conferences with a student's parents. A late night 'Open House' affair, I believe it was." Pausing, he turned to Mapp and arched his brows. "Feel free to intervene should I misinterpret something."
Starling cracked a brief smile, despite stirring vibes of irritation at his admittance that he had nearly decided not to come. To simply sit back and enjoy her demise. A voice screamed within her that she hadn't wanted him to come, that it was more dangerous here, but knowing he had considered was bittersweet. Oh well. She likely deserved it.
"I'm not going to butt in. No way in hell," Mapp declared, almost defensively. "You must be outta your…ummm…I'm not going to interrupt."
"As you wish," Dr. Lecter returned simply, fastened in a warring gaze with Starling once more. "I admit, I had less than orthodox methods of gaining her attention. I—"
"He snuck up behind me and held a fucking blade to my throat!" she screamed suddenly, despite the promise made seconds before. "Then he told me to drive home and not make a sound. I about crapped my pants!"
"Funny how I seem to have a continuous adverse affect on your digestive system," he commented dryly.
"Will someone please continue!" Starling snapped, though she was inwardly doubled over with laughter. For no reason in particular, the Addams Family theme struck her subconscious and began to play incessantly.
Dr. Lecter was perversely agreeable and willing to comply. It was almost suspicious, but then it wasn't at all. If there was anything she had learned over the past ten years, it was his ever-persistent drive to be both insufferably exasperating and invariably unpredictable. "Certainly. Do you wish to continue, Ms. Mapp, or should I?"
"Go ahead."
"You sure? After all, you—"
"Just continue, Doc! I'm shutting up. I promise."
Starling thought about sharing her theory that Dr. Lecter had been locked away originally just to shut him up, but decided that enough was enough. Besides, she still had unanswered questions. Somewhere in the back of her mind, the old verse that time and tide wait for no man echoed.
For the umpteenth time, she looked to him and saw amusement dancing in his pupils. "Go Doctor," she said softly, though demanding.
"As you wish," he replied, making her fight off a smile at the thought. "I instructed her to drive to her home. Once there, I restrained her to a chair and allowed a few minutes of unbridled screaming for help. I know you haven't visited since her move, Clarice, but Ms. Mapp's home is quite secluded; far outside the city limits. Needless to say, no one heard a thing. She calmed when she saw I wielded no blade, that my Harpy was momentarily out of reach, and finally thought to ask to what she owed the pleasure."
At that, Starling arched a skeptical eyebrow.
"Actually," Mapp corrected. "I think I said, 'All right, fuck a duck, you win. What the hell are you doing here?' Something like that."
"Mmm…yes. Artful use of language, I must say. Continuing, I told her that I was visiting on your behalf, Clarice. I explained the situation I had put you in and estimated the events to follow. I told her what you were facing, and that I had your best interest in mind," Dr. Lecter said slowly, holding her with his eyes, all tease aside.
Subconsciously, Mapp broke the tender moment. "Which I didn't believe, of course. He got you into this shit, right? I figured why the hell would he be trying to get you out?"
"You really are true to your word, aren't you?" He remarked snidely. "If you would prefer to tell the story, by all means—"
"No! No…go right ahead."
For Starling, watching the continuous struggle for authority in the storytelling process only reminded her how very much they both, albeit differently, influenced her life, what they meant to her. Mapp would always be the voice of reason. If it couldn't be done her way, then there wasn't any point in wasting your time. The constant 'tell it like it is' approach to any situation was something no sensible person would miss. Everything, it seemed, had been easier when they shared a duplex. And Dr. Lecter for his seriousness and compassion, his interest and wit, his insight and, yes, even his ego. How many years had she lived relying on his advice, even if he wasn't standing beside her? What was a life without that? What sort of life had it been?
Watching him now made her realize how very important his voice was to her, his input. While it had always been there, the understanding merged into consciousness with such abrupt sharpness that it forced her to pause in reflection and catch her breath.
Knowing she could hide nothing from him, Starling reflected no surprise when Dr. Lecter reacted to her impulsive, however subtle huff. Instead, he simply nodded as his lips formed the word, "Later." And while he had not spoken, she shivered just the same.
"After I explained my disposition to Ms. Mapp," he continued, not breaking his professional sheath, "and several reassurances and a few examples of my noble intentions, she finally conceded to assist me in arriving relatively unscathed on my white stallion."
"A white Toyota, actually, but who needs details?" Mapp said with a shrug.
Starling's eyes narrowed in spite of herself. "You don't strike me as the white stallions…or Toyotas type, Doctor."
Shooting her a grin, he shrugged, and the single motion both infuriated her and made her sear with endearment. "I'm doing my best to remain conspicuous, Clarice. A man must improvise. It would seem a tad suspicious if a masked visitor arrived on the back of Cerberus, wouldn't you say?"
She barked a laugh, shaking her head. "I was scared shitless you were going to do something like this."
That insufferable smile of his! How could he appear thoughtful, arrogant, sympathetic, superior, and utterly irresistible in the simple twitch of the lips? "Like what?" he asked inevitably, coaxing an eye roll out of her. He knew damn well what.
"Like this! Come to see me…whether by horseback, in a Toyota, or with the company of a three-headed dog. Do you have any idea how closely I'm being monitored? Hell, there might be a SWAT team outside this hotel room."
"I took all the necessary precautions into consideration," Dr. Lecter assured her. "As far as the world needs to know – or doesn't, but that's another issue – you are simply visiting a friend from out of town. I also regarded the possibility that your recent plight was simply a lure to provoke me to come to your aid, which is why Ms. Mapp's phone call was absolutely essential."
"You listened?"
"Every word."
Starling wondered if Dr. Lecter had sat with his ear tentatively close to the phone or relied on his eerie accuracy from across the room, but decided the next minute that he would have tried to scare Mapp in every way imaginable. Having a madman's notorious teeth so close to so many pressure points when her insides were already rebelling must have unnerved her to no end. Funny how the same madman's mouth pressed to hers in a moment of undeclared passion could raise none of those fears within her. Peril was more apparent then, and the clock was ticking. She glanced to her friend, expecting another comment about the nether regions.
When Mapp called her looking intently, she blinked in confusion and finally smiled. "Yes, he did scare the shit out of me."
"My good word seems to be losing its credibility," Dr. Lecter considered with a mock sigh, though it was easily deciphered that he was amused, even pleased, that he could frighten without being frightening. "Even if I don't recall jeopardizing it."
"So what now?" Starling asked when she saw Mapp was going to snap a reply. No need to go on a power play. She learned that lesson long ago and was still reaping the affects.
"Well, this is fun," her friend said drolly, more to herself. "Throw in a keg and a couple of chickens and you have prom night."
Mapp intentionally ignored the stares that comment deserved.
"That depends, Clarice," Dr. Lecter observed, dismissing her friend again, leaning forward, almost dangerously. "Do you still want my help, or has the price been too much for you?"
Her eyes narrowed. "What the fuck do you think, genius?"
Another rich laugh, another look of utter paranoia from Mapp.
"Pardon me if I must ask you to reaffirm yourself ever so often, my dear. I did live with your reasoning for ten years, did I not? How am I to know there's not an inkling of morality writhing within you, just aching to be discovered?"
This was sinfully gratifying. Even when she was knee high in shit, she could still manage to have a good time. Rising to the challenge, Starling perked both brows and retorted, "Yes, because that makes sense. Let's not only lose my job, but the escape from my job."
"Am I an escape, Clarice?"
"You tell me."
"I only offered advice. Are you suggesting a hidden innuendo?"
"From you?" she scoffed cynically. "Never. I laugh at the very thought."
His eyes twinkled at such careless though trusting defiance. "Ah, a Freudian slip, then?"
"Why ask me? You seem to have all the answers."
From the corner, Mapp erupted again. "PLEASE! Doctor, do her ass a favor and take it with you, wherever you're going. Starling, stop being your usual stubborn self and admit that you want to go. One of you…both of you…knock it off before you give me a fucking heart attack!"
The corners of Dr. Lecter's mouth tugged in a tight smile. "You are easily intimidated, aren't you?" he asked pointedly.
That coaxed a scowl out of her, a look Starling knew well. With strength and respite in her tone, Mapp replied firmly, "Do you think I would've told you to shut up if I was intimidated? No, I just don't see what's so goddamned funny. You two are just wasting time."
A swift knock at the door swiftly stole whatever retort lay coiled on Starling's tongue, and she felt her innards tremble. Amazingly, she failed to gasp, the tapping occurring too quickly to really make her reflect that the everyday sound should not exist in this room. When her breath froze in her throat, her eyes finally tore from Mapp's eyes to Dr. Lecter, but he was up and across the room, entering the lavatory though not shutting the door. That would be suspicious.
Again came the knocking. Not a word was shared between them. Starling hurriedly reclined and ruffled the blankets on the bed, rolling to turn down the sheets on the other. She had just flicked on the television and was casually flipping through channels when the rapping came once more, this time accompanied by a voice.
"Pizza!"
The air, if possible, grew thicker. Starling locked gazes with Mapp, pursing her lips to keep the excited giggle of relief from escaping. There was still that lingering possibility that…
Mapp opened the door. A greasy kid no more than nineteen stood at the threshold, looking rather irritated at the delay.
"Pizza?" he said impatiently.
Starling couldn't help it. Relief coursed her through her. All at once she felt like laughing, crying, singing, dancing, screaming…never had anything scared her that much. In a flash, it would have been over. Laughter poured from opened lips, and she doubled over in small quivers of liberation.
"What's wrong with her?" the kid asked dumbly, only increasing her hysterics.
"Did you order a pizza, 'Delia?" she asked when she had gained control of herself.
How her friend had kept from expressing the relief that poured through her eyes, Starling would never know but always envy. Perhaps because of everyone there, she had the littlest to lose. "No. I was going to," Mapp explained, turning back to the kid. "You must have the wrong room, sonny. Try a few doors down." She leaned over to examine the ticket. "Yeah, see? This is room twenty-three. That's a five."
"Sorry. My bad." As the kid looked upward again to gage Starling's laughing fit, she saw his eyes wander instead to the mirror that hung loosely above the dresser, frown in consideration, and finally freeze.
And just like that, it was over.
"Fuck no," she whispered, following his gaze, dread enveloping her once more. "Shit!"
The kid plopped the pizza box at Mapp's feet, wide-eyed as a scream pierced the air. He performed an about-face and took off down the hallway, yelling incoherencies that would soon make sense.
"Oh dear," Dr. Lecter sighed, stepping into the hall again.
"Fuck-fuckity-fuck-fuck-fuck," Starling growled. "Fuck, we gotta haul ass. What were you doing standing right there in the fucking doorway?"
"Have you noticed that your liking to profanity increases when you're anxious?" he asked. "And ironically limits to one word, all at the same time?"
Mapp tripped over the pizza box, her eyes wide with alarm. "Enough of that! I gotta get you two out of the city."
"Out of the city, Ms. Mapp? Think globally. The country is preferable."
"Will you two PLEASE stop talking like I'm not here?" Starling hissed, her mind warping. Small goosebumps spread across her skin, and her heart had not yet recovered. "I hadn't decided anything yet, and—"
Mapp shook her head defiantly. "You don't really have a choice, Starling. I gotta get out of here, too. I'll be in deep shit, in case you hadn't considered that. Aiding and abetting fucking Hannibal Lecter…that's beautiful. Girl, if you want out, there's your ticket," she nodded absently toward the doctor. "Take it or leave it."