Granted there wasn't much time to consider. Starling shared a long gaze with Mapp, reading her options clearly. In an instant, she saw her life divided into two categories; saw the trash that could become of it. While it was true that any imminent decision was miles from being concluded, she had to force herself to believe that this was the path she would have chosen.
In truth, Starling had never been more confused. Having her verdict return without her approval or consent eliminated the long and often useless process of internal wrestling with forbidden thoughts, but it also made her shiver with recognition. This was it. No turning back. It wasn't to say she couldn't leave him, but it was the conventional end of her orderly life. For so long, she had watched as it loomed in the future, coming too close for comfort at times but never making contact. Without pausing for a breath, she was slammed with alteration. She, who was so accustomed to conformity, who had never really emerged into the comprehension that she was very much alone in her standing.
Starling tore her eyes away from Mapp and looked to Dr. Lecter. There, she acknowledged his similar conclusions and was startled to note that he shared her insights. Perhaps even he had been unprepared to take her with him. Unprepared, but certainly not unwilling. Shimmers of excitement and hope glimmered within his familiar gaze. Danger, of course, streaks of elegance and pride, never without the flavor of arrogance. Everything she had come to expect from him over the years. Everything she had come to cherish, despite how she fervently denied it.
In a flash, she saw herself walking up to a vacant house while tortuous thoughts danced through a darkened mind. She heard herself conversing silently - not always - with the all-too-familiar voice that had housed pleasantly in her subconscious, foretelling her bleak future without sympathy but blunt honesty and truth. She saw herself hunched over, peering into a mailbox and finding the first step to her release, and how costly the price of freedom had turned out to be.
Then she saw Pearsall and her face distorted in mixed annoyance and disgust.
Perchance considering she came to her end, or perhaps they were running out of time, but the doctor's eyes widened significantly. "We don't have long," he muttered at last, the first thing said in what felt like hours. "You will have ample time to reflect and regret once we leave the city. That is, unless, you prefer to brave the law you know so well? The choice is yours."
"I just love the way you two are lounging about, acting like nothing's wrong," Mapp grumbled. "I dunno about you, but I'm getting outta here. I got way more than I bargained for on this trip, anyhow."
"Right," Starling muttered subconsciously. "Right." It was that simple. One word could separate her from the decree she had so believed in as she willingly submitted to the side of law enforcement she had never intended to witness. "Doctor, let's get the hell out of here. We'll talk about this."
"I look forward to it. After you, my dear."
In the parking lot, Starling started for her car, Dr. Lecter at her side. For whatever reason, it seemed important. Side-by-side, both unarmed, in collaboration for the first time since a girl threatened to become the next experiment of a temporary line of style. She felt good at his side, as though she had strived all her life to make it this far. That thought was banished quickly as she reminded herself that she had no way of knowing that this was how it was to end, and that life-and-death situations were hardly the time for such consideration.
Life and death, freedom and incarceration - same argument.
As they neared the car, new realization dawned on her. The authorities would recognize this vehicle anywhere. Despair grasped her, and for the first time, the stirrings of panic accepted the form of tangibility. Her breath constricted in her throat and her nails dug ineffectively into open palms.
"This is hopeless," she muttered.
"I don't believe so, Clarice," Dr. Lecter disagreed softly. When she looked up, eyes wide and brows perked in challenge, he indicated with a cool nod of his head to Mapp approaching, having reached the same conclusion. Starling stared blankly at her friend in relative shock as she withdrew her keys and tossed them in their direction.
"Don't say anything, girl," her friend warned, snatching the Mustang's away from her fluently. "Just get out of here. Ya'll are cutting it way too fine." As though in correlation with her statement, the first wails of sirens howled through the night air. Time was of the essence.
"Thank you, Ardelia," her companion said gracefully. "You have been essentially helpful throughout this escapade, and I appreciate and recognize everything you have forfeited and lost. Should you need help, don't hesitate to ask. At the very least, I will remember to send you a wonderful thank-you note."
Mapp was a rare receiver of gratitude, thus she brushed it off without considering. Without wanting to consider. "Don't send me anything. Don't offer me anything. I don't want it. I didn't do this for you, you know. Just promise me you won't scare the shit out of her." She locked eyes with Starling again. "He's rather good at that."
"I gather." Starling sighed, the same feelings of trepidation coming over her. Each passing second reminded her how very much her life had changed in such a short amount of time, and she found herself confronted with the discomfiting sensation that she might learn to regret it. Even more was the notion that this was the break, the push she was waiting for, and that she would later scold herself for neglecting to realize it sooner. "I love you, Ardelia."
"If you love me so much then get out of here! I don't want to get my ass hauled to jail for no reason." Closing the subject, she turned and waved over her shoulder, her back to them, closing the space between herself and the Mustang.
The white Toyota was convenient and inconspicuous. Starling's eyes followed Mapp as she roared out of the parking lot as she tried desperately not to react to the man settling to her right.
"All set for the off?" he asked pleasantly. She fought the temptation to look at him, too numb with new escalating sensations and internal battles. It felt as though her innards were wrenching into a knot that would take weeks to untangle.
Nodding, though she wasn't sure to whom, Starling sighed shortly and answered, "No time like the present." At the wheel, she turned the ignition and pulled away.
"Indeed. Time and tide waits for no man."
"Except you, perhaps." The words escaped her without the need of forethought. When she realized she had spoken them aloud, she pursed her lips in concentration, her eyes focused obsessively on the road. He rumbled beside her in gentle amusement.
"If only, Clarice, if only."
She found herself smiling.
The last string was severed. It was left to her, Dr. Lecter, and the open road.
A period of silence respectable reflection settled for the first few minutes. The gentle hum of the engine was companionable, waning away the impending epoch of personal judgment. Starling nibbled in thought on her lip, registering how her heart pounded still, and wondered if that could be accredited to the subsiding sound of wailing sirens or the man who sat dangerously close to her.
To dismiss the danger they were in was presumptuous and liable to get them both captured or worse, but she couldn't help but feel safe now that the hotel was behind them. Her thoughts stayed distractedly with Mapp for a few minutes, her conscience weighing for bringing her friend into this. No, she reminded herself, that wasn't right. She hadn't asked for any of it.
A voice she knew all too well merged back to life, screaming the more likely plight. The inner rationalization that this was entirely his fault.
Of course, Dr. Lecter had keen perception on every inkling that rattled within her constantly unnerved system. While his eyes remained locked on his clasped hands, he was still perfectly in tune with her continuous and every-growing menial conflict. A tight sigh escaped his throat and she felt herself clamp up in recognition that the silence was coming to an end.
"You do realize that as much as you would like to, abiding to lay blame at my feet brings you no closer to finding your desperate sanctuary," he said softly, discarding the need for lengthy prefaces. They were far beyond that. They were far beyond many things.
"I know," she conceded with a nod, not having the will or strength to deny her fraudulent thoughts. "But hell, life sure would be easier if I could."
"Hmmm...yes. I suppose it would. The archetypal villain at the actual ends of probable cause for the work of life's prejudice." Dr. Lecter sighed again, raising his gaze to the road before them. "Sadly, reality isn't that simple, Clarice."
As though stung, she shot him a defensive, almost hurt look, but the impression was brief. Her eyes directed to the traffic again shortly. "You know I didn't mean it like that."
"Of course you did. You said so yourself just seconds ago." When he fell silent once more, she hazarded another glance at him, catching his eyes this time and reflecting pools of what could be sadness, indifference or hope. Even after ten years, he was ambiguous to her. How well did she know him, if at all? Enough to trust him with her life, enough to throw what was left of her career out the window without remorse. Enough to concede that joining him in this escapade was the better option when she could have let the police have him.
But past that? She had no idea what he was thinking, and while this excited her on a level, it was similarly disconcerting.
When he spoke again, his voice was passive, which she found perhaps more terrifying than fury. Heaven knew he had every right to sting her with venom. Instead, his tone was level and calm. "You know better than anyone that life, despite all its wonderfully inadequate attempts, will never mold into a fairy tale, even if you deserve one." Dr. Lecter paused again briefly, but she knew he was not finished. "I wonder, Clarice, if you are more irritated at yourself for the elicitation of such lack of difference, or at the inability for the world to see things with your level of liberated vision. Who should conform to whom? It's you and them."
A lump was rapidly forming in her throat, not budging despite her attempts to swallow it. "Is it, Doctor?" she asked bravely, betraying her slick palms and ever-increasing heart rate. "I could've sworn that I just left the them in your equation."
"Did you?" Dr. Lecter answered coolly. "Did you really? Or did you just seize the only available out? The only option that was more appealing than prospective jail time? Hmmm?"
"That's bogus," she snapped. "I had the option of staying and trying to apprehend you - again. I didn't have to sit through your explanations. I didn't have to answer your letter."
"You stated earlier that I was an escape."
Starling's eyes narrowed, though her pulse was racing, even as her heart stopped hammering so feverishly at the prospect of being hunted by the law. The sirens were barely audible now, and they had recently crossed the Potomac, safely out of Washington. "I thought we established that that was a Freudian slip," she fired back challengingly.
"You also said that you still wanted my assistance," Dr. Lecter continued as though she hadn't spoken.
"A cross-country trip in a Toyota wasn't exactly what I had in mind."
"Nor I. But I am not so terribly high maintenance that--"
"Whatever!" Starling barked a snicker. It was the first laugh to escape her since their earlier duel, and the sound echoed like the release of burden through the small, compact atmosphere. "That's the biggest crock of--"
"No need to be vulgar, my dear," he cut her off abruptly, though she could tell he was laughing with her. "Another issue to discuss in the future. I was merely demonstrating that while recent events might have spoiled my immediate plans, I am not beyond amendable."
Starling rolled her eyes. "Well, of course! How does this hamper you? You've lost nothing, `cept perhaps whatever's left of that sanity of yours if you're going to put up with my yapping. I've lost..."
"Yes?"
"My life!"
A short silence settled over them.
"Tell me, Clarice. Tell me about your life. This splendid institution you have had so ruthlessly stolen from you. What will there be to miss? Rumors, allegations, inequality, corruptibility, deceit...the list seems endless."
His words stung mercilessly but she forced herself to endure it without flinching. Instead, she allowed a minute to pass before clearing her throat and suggesting, "How very shrewd. And those are just the good qualities."
She felt his eyes linger over her in scrutiny for a beat longer than she was comfortable but very familiar with. Still, she didn't blink or even return his gaze. When he began chuckling, her tension dissipated. "As slippery as always, Former Agent Starling."
"Wouldn't want to become predictable or anything."
"Hmmm...yes." His eyes had not moved from her face, finally coaxing her to glance over. Embedded in warm pupils was the fondness she had grown accustomed to over the years, not masking but coinciding with agitation and wonderment. Even now she had him on his toes.
It was easy to keep surprising someone when you continuously surprised yourself.
"Do I frighten you, Clarice?"
Starling's eyes narrowed, flabbergasted by both the spontaneity and content of his question. "What do you think?"
"Answer me honestly." A strangely serious tone had beset him. Best not to ignore it.
Courteously, she forced herself to confront it like any other inquiry. How many levels were there to this question? She didn't want to consider. Quicker than that, he wouldn't tolerate an answer laced in metaphors and fancy space fillers. "You don't scare me, Doctor," she replied sincerely. "I think you might if you really wanted to, and even so, I scare myself more than you ever could." She shook her head, startled by the truth in her own statement, but continued. "After all, who's crazier? The madman or the lunatic that follows him?"
All right, so she stole that from Star Wars. Big deal. It was true nonetheless. Either way, she wasn't surprised when he didn't accuse her of plagiarism. Dr. Lecter would never understand the beauty of such films.
That made her crack a brief smile that she wiped away fiercely before he could see it.
"You knew all this before you came to visit Ardelia," he accused softly.
"I did."
"And yet you still fear the loss of something so abusive?"
"Don't tell me I hurt your feelings, Dr. Lecter," she drawled dismissively. "Just because you can face the winds of change without blinking doesn't mean that the whole world has to. Despite how much I should be grateful, should be this and should be that, that doesn't make any difference in the fact that I was forced into it. I had no choice." She tossed another glance at him, stirred but not surprised by that the fog that masterfully shaded his thoughts had cast over his pupils.
"What do you believe you would have done, Clarice? Suppose the evening had progressed uninterrupted, and I had stood before you and offered my hand in escape. What would you have said?"
"It's too late for presumptions."
"I'm well aware of that. But who can truly label this as a presumption? Have I performed any ill-conceived activity that would lead you to believe this is the final end? That I intend to tie you up and force you to remain obediently at my side?" Repulsion at the implication rolled off his tongue alongside his words, sending small shivers of cold recognition through her body. "Surely you know that only the location has changed. My proposition, the very same I offered since you first opened my letter, remains unbothered." The test in his voice was stern and to the point.
Distantly, Starling saw herself as of an hour ago, sitting on the semi-comfortable edge of a hotel bed, sharing long looks with Dr. Lecter as thoughts collided in frenzied pandemonium. A million sensations soared through her tired form. There were two distinct paths before her. One, she could move on successfully and alone, stand to brave the winds of her new storm. After all, as a former law officer, avoiding the stylistic patterns of the ever-worshipped textbooks was really the only step required. She would need money, of course, but Starling had never been a big spender. Once she acquired what she needed, she could live comfortably off that with the assistance of odd jobs or whatever line of work she could manage. It was the defined opportunity of emancipation she had long awaited. A new life far from anyone who had ever heard her name.
Just how likely was that?
There was certain liberation in knowing she could do it should she need to. However, Starling discerned, she had known since she saw him when she entered the hotel room that she would never be satisfied with merely that. That which she had settled for her entire life.
And still, even now as they drove away, seemingly together, further and further from the home she had called her own, Starling didn't know exactly what it was he wanted from her. She had her ideas, of course, and was fairly certain of their accuracy. What troubled her was the knowledge of her reaction.
As always, his eyes were on her, ponderously studying, peeling away the shards and layers from her overly broken heart.
How much is one person allowed to hurt in a lifetime?
"I still want your help," Starling croaked at last, her throat raw from the emotional clot that now resided in her throat. "Of course I do. And more besides. If I hadn't wanted that, I wouldn't have gotten in the car."
"No? Are you sure?" There was no real surprise in his tone, no hidden innuendo, which similarly failed to catch her off guard. "You would have left me to your hounds, then, had there not been something tied into deal for your advantage?"
"No!" she growled, her voice stuck between octaves. "You would think that, though, wouldn't you?"
Dr. Lecter made no attempt to either defend his position or deny the accusation. Instead, he shrugged with infuriating simplicity, eyes lingering on her even as she had to devote her full attention to the road. This man never wavered. "Then pray tell me, Ex Special Agent Starling, if I am so misinformed."
Something within her snapped as angry words took the place of the lump in her throat, but she bit her tongue and harshly commanded herself not to release them just yet. The car swerved with impact as she steered to the shoulder and roughly set the gears in park. Gallingly, the doctor had not reflected change in the slightest. Starling twisted herself to face him in the seat, knowing he would not believe her unless he could hear it on her lips and read it in her eyes. Words were released without forethought or consideration. As for now, she didn't care if the whole world knew.
"I would've let you have the goddamn car," she said slowly, as though speaking to a detrimental child. "This one. You and Ardelia would've had to haul ass out of town. This was my mess and I brought you into it, or I let you bring yourself into it. I didn't have to answer your letter, first or second. Each time the price rose just a little bit, but I kept paying." Starling closed her eyes, not so much to dramatically establish the emphatic aspects of her argument as a product of genuine irritation. "The truth that's killing me, the truth that's easier to blame on you is I would've stayed had I not wanted to be here. That's what's driving me up the wall. The fact that I had that opportunity and the knowledge that I didn't take it out of manipulation." Eyes locked fiercely with his, she didn't take time to analyze the separate flames soaring behind each pupil. She was on a roll. "I tried that once before, Doctor, and I wasn't too thrilled with where it got me. I don't make the
same mistake twice - I make new ones. I wouldn't use you as an alternative to jail time. That's no fair to either of us." Her teeth clinched. "Is this what you wanted? Is this enough? Or should I write it in blood? I maintain that I had no choice, but what bothers me more is that I know it was inevitable and I would've gone with you anyway. Thrown away what there was of my life and gone ahead with you, wherever you wanted to go. Because I hate what they've done to me. I hate what I've become." At last, her temper started to dwindle. As she took deep breaths, reclaiming herself, she was relieved that he didn't seize the chance to speak. There was still something she had to get out. When she was sufficiently calmed, Starling looked up once more and said with agonizing sincerity, "If I didn't want to be here I wouldn't be. And. You. Know. It."
The air around her fell still as words melted into dark nothingness. she held his gaze firmly, knowing hers had to reflect the same conviction she spoke. It soared with dying guilt through her veins, the last of the confessions, the farewell to society. So long sweet society.
Fuck society.
Fire soared tantalizingly within his eyes, making her skin tingle. When at last he parted his lips to speak, Starling drew in a sharp breath, as though pausing to hear the final beatings of her heart.
"Do you really think, Clarice," Dr. Lecter said softly, his eyes caressing and his tone excruciatingly passive, "that I would have allowed you to stand aside and accept the fall for my lapse? Had it come to that, as you said, I would have gone to extremes to get you out of there, with or without your consent."
In relief and fondness, Starling released her breath and grinned solemnly, a grin of a thousand images. A thousand burdens. A thousand years. "I know," she whispered warmly. "But why? Why, Doctor? Why go to all this trouble? I've caused you more than its worth. What did you hope to gain from it?"
"I wanted to help you."
"I know it's not that simple."
"Then you know what I hoped to gain." Dr. Lecter settled back slightly as though the matter was of no more gravity than discussions of the Superbowl. "As you have known since I first wrote you. My goal has never been indistinct, Clarice."
"To you, maybe," she retorted shortly. "You know, Doc--"
In incisive disagreement, he shook his head. "No, no...you knew then and you know now. The question has structured and played time and time again inside that wonderfully complex mind of yours. All the while you are trapped in a sea of bad headlines and rather wild allegations, and despite your shroud of innocence, you see and recognize the truth, tuning out the rest of the mindless gossip. You have known for ten years, since Memphis. Certainly any additional confusion was eliminated at the late Mr. Krendler's lake house. After all, Clarice, why would I risk it? My life, or better, my freedom? What possible motives would I have, other than what is obvious?" As silence overtook them briefly once more, Starling recognized that her pulse had again elevated and her heart was hammering. Yes, she knew what he meant. At last he was returning the favor of being very frank, even if his message was coded in images that he did not thoroughly want deciphered.
Still, there was that rebellious strand of defiance lingering within her somewhere, and she called on it now. The mood was too serious.
"What is it you're trying to say?" Despite her attempts, her voice came out damp and emotional. She was grateful when his eyes did not cast darkly in shadow.
"You have your options laid out ahead of you, Clarice. You see them clearly; you have these long years. Conformity and the so-called promise of refuge, what is safe and known, even under these terms. It's there, waiting for one last fatal chance." The look on his face was positively shattering. Starling's previously immobile hands that lay obediently in her lap suddenly jerked with motion, her left reaching to grip the steering wheel. When he began speaking again she dug her nails deep into the leather.
"And then, of course, there is me."
Impatience ebbed her control, though she didn't know what to expect when it imminently snapped. "Why?" she heard herself ask.
Dr. Lecter's eyes widened, as though he couldn't believe she possessed the audacity to press him still, but still reflected the admiration behind it. She was wrestling for words, the rights to those words, words she needed to hear if they were ever to progress beyond this continuous struggle for dominance. If ever they were to maintain down this road, down the path to escape, and out the door to the rest of their lives.
And he knew it, of course, which was why he enjoyed toying with her so. "Why what?"
"Why are you there, down that path you mentioned? Why are you still here? Why are you always here, even and especially with every bitchy and naïve thing I've done to you? Why not give me what I deserve; Lord knows I've signed my own sentence more times than I can count. Why?"
At that, he bristled, shaking his head stubbornly. "You know the answer to that, Clarice."
"Tell me."
"No."
"Yes!"
"I love you."
The next thing Starling was aware of, she had been pulled across the seat and into his waiting arms. Or had she pounced him? It didn't matter. Newly unleashed liberation soared through her, freeing her at last from all prior constraints. The ghosts of old halls and loyalties died, not for the sake of being loved, but for the knowledge of what was mutually shared. With the release granted and the wonderful feel of his mouth moving against hers, nothing of the past or future mattered a damn. Now, with the barrier finally broken, all she cared about was seizing this long repressed fervor. It was unlike any kiss she had ever given or received in her life, and she knew, entangled in his arms that tightened as for fear she would drift away, that there was no other place she would rather be.
Then her cell phone rang.
In truth, Starling had never been more confused. Having her verdict return without her approval or consent eliminated the long and often useless process of internal wrestling with forbidden thoughts, but it also made her shiver with recognition. This was it. No turning back. It wasn't to say she couldn't leave him, but it was the conventional end of her orderly life. For so long, she had watched as it loomed in the future, coming too close for comfort at times but never making contact. Without pausing for a breath, she was slammed with alteration. She, who was so accustomed to conformity, who had never really emerged into the comprehension that she was very much alone in her standing.
Starling tore her eyes away from Mapp and looked to Dr. Lecter. There, she acknowledged his similar conclusions and was startled to note that he shared her insights. Perhaps even he had been unprepared to take her with him. Unprepared, but certainly not unwilling. Shimmers of excitement and hope glimmered within his familiar gaze. Danger, of course, streaks of elegance and pride, never without the flavor of arrogance. Everything she had come to expect from him over the years. Everything she had come to cherish, despite how she fervently denied it.
In a flash, she saw herself walking up to a vacant house while tortuous thoughts danced through a darkened mind. She heard herself conversing silently - not always - with the all-too-familiar voice that had housed pleasantly in her subconscious, foretelling her bleak future without sympathy but blunt honesty and truth. She saw herself hunched over, peering into a mailbox and finding the first step to her release, and how costly the price of freedom had turned out to be.
Then she saw Pearsall and her face distorted in mixed annoyance and disgust.
Perchance considering she came to her end, or perhaps they were running out of time, but the doctor's eyes widened significantly. "We don't have long," he muttered at last, the first thing said in what felt like hours. "You will have ample time to reflect and regret once we leave the city. That is, unless, you prefer to brave the law you know so well? The choice is yours."
"I just love the way you two are lounging about, acting like nothing's wrong," Mapp grumbled. "I dunno about you, but I'm getting outta here. I got way more than I bargained for on this trip, anyhow."
"Right," Starling muttered subconsciously. "Right." It was that simple. One word could separate her from the decree she had so believed in as she willingly submitted to the side of law enforcement she had never intended to witness. "Doctor, let's get the hell out of here. We'll talk about this."
"I look forward to it. After you, my dear."
In the parking lot, Starling started for her car, Dr. Lecter at her side. For whatever reason, it seemed important. Side-by-side, both unarmed, in collaboration for the first time since a girl threatened to become the next experiment of a temporary line of style. She felt good at his side, as though she had strived all her life to make it this far. That thought was banished quickly as she reminded herself that she had no way of knowing that this was how it was to end, and that life-and-death situations were hardly the time for such consideration.
Life and death, freedom and incarceration - same argument.
As they neared the car, new realization dawned on her. The authorities would recognize this vehicle anywhere. Despair grasped her, and for the first time, the stirrings of panic accepted the form of tangibility. Her breath constricted in her throat and her nails dug ineffectively into open palms.
"This is hopeless," she muttered.
"I don't believe so, Clarice," Dr. Lecter disagreed softly. When she looked up, eyes wide and brows perked in challenge, he indicated with a cool nod of his head to Mapp approaching, having reached the same conclusion. Starling stared blankly at her friend in relative shock as she withdrew her keys and tossed them in their direction.
"Don't say anything, girl," her friend warned, snatching the Mustang's away from her fluently. "Just get out of here. Ya'll are cutting it way too fine." As though in correlation with her statement, the first wails of sirens howled through the night air. Time was of the essence.
"Thank you, Ardelia," her companion said gracefully. "You have been essentially helpful throughout this escapade, and I appreciate and recognize everything you have forfeited and lost. Should you need help, don't hesitate to ask. At the very least, I will remember to send you a wonderful thank-you note."
Mapp was a rare receiver of gratitude, thus she brushed it off without considering. Without wanting to consider. "Don't send me anything. Don't offer me anything. I don't want it. I didn't do this for you, you know. Just promise me you won't scare the shit out of her." She locked eyes with Starling again. "He's rather good at that."
"I gather." Starling sighed, the same feelings of trepidation coming over her. Each passing second reminded her how very much her life had changed in such a short amount of time, and she found herself confronted with the discomfiting sensation that she might learn to regret it. Even more was the notion that this was the break, the push she was waiting for, and that she would later scold herself for neglecting to realize it sooner. "I love you, Ardelia."
"If you love me so much then get out of here! I don't want to get my ass hauled to jail for no reason." Closing the subject, she turned and waved over her shoulder, her back to them, closing the space between herself and the Mustang.
The white Toyota was convenient and inconspicuous. Starling's eyes followed Mapp as she roared out of the parking lot as she tried desperately not to react to the man settling to her right.
"All set for the off?" he asked pleasantly. She fought the temptation to look at him, too numb with new escalating sensations and internal battles. It felt as though her innards were wrenching into a knot that would take weeks to untangle.
Nodding, though she wasn't sure to whom, Starling sighed shortly and answered, "No time like the present." At the wheel, she turned the ignition and pulled away.
"Indeed. Time and tide waits for no man."
"Except you, perhaps." The words escaped her without the need of forethought. When she realized she had spoken them aloud, she pursed her lips in concentration, her eyes focused obsessively on the road. He rumbled beside her in gentle amusement.
"If only, Clarice, if only."
She found herself smiling.
The last string was severed. It was left to her, Dr. Lecter, and the open road.
A period of silence respectable reflection settled for the first few minutes. The gentle hum of the engine was companionable, waning away the impending epoch of personal judgment. Starling nibbled in thought on her lip, registering how her heart pounded still, and wondered if that could be accredited to the subsiding sound of wailing sirens or the man who sat dangerously close to her.
To dismiss the danger they were in was presumptuous and liable to get them both captured or worse, but she couldn't help but feel safe now that the hotel was behind them. Her thoughts stayed distractedly with Mapp for a few minutes, her conscience weighing for bringing her friend into this. No, she reminded herself, that wasn't right. She hadn't asked for any of it.
A voice she knew all too well merged back to life, screaming the more likely plight. The inner rationalization that this was entirely his fault.
Of course, Dr. Lecter had keen perception on every inkling that rattled within her constantly unnerved system. While his eyes remained locked on his clasped hands, he was still perfectly in tune with her continuous and every-growing menial conflict. A tight sigh escaped his throat and she felt herself clamp up in recognition that the silence was coming to an end.
"You do realize that as much as you would like to, abiding to lay blame at my feet brings you no closer to finding your desperate sanctuary," he said softly, discarding the need for lengthy prefaces. They were far beyond that. They were far beyond many things.
"I know," she conceded with a nod, not having the will or strength to deny her fraudulent thoughts. "But hell, life sure would be easier if I could."
"Hmmm...yes. I suppose it would. The archetypal villain at the actual ends of probable cause for the work of life's prejudice." Dr. Lecter sighed again, raising his gaze to the road before them. "Sadly, reality isn't that simple, Clarice."
As though stung, she shot him a defensive, almost hurt look, but the impression was brief. Her eyes directed to the traffic again shortly. "You know I didn't mean it like that."
"Of course you did. You said so yourself just seconds ago." When he fell silent once more, she hazarded another glance at him, catching his eyes this time and reflecting pools of what could be sadness, indifference or hope. Even after ten years, he was ambiguous to her. How well did she know him, if at all? Enough to trust him with her life, enough to throw what was left of her career out the window without remorse. Enough to concede that joining him in this escapade was the better option when she could have let the police have him.
But past that? She had no idea what he was thinking, and while this excited her on a level, it was similarly disconcerting.
When he spoke again, his voice was passive, which she found perhaps more terrifying than fury. Heaven knew he had every right to sting her with venom. Instead, his tone was level and calm. "You know better than anyone that life, despite all its wonderfully inadequate attempts, will never mold into a fairy tale, even if you deserve one." Dr. Lecter paused again briefly, but she knew he was not finished. "I wonder, Clarice, if you are more irritated at yourself for the elicitation of such lack of difference, or at the inability for the world to see things with your level of liberated vision. Who should conform to whom? It's you and them."
A lump was rapidly forming in her throat, not budging despite her attempts to swallow it. "Is it, Doctor?" she asked bravely, betraying her slick palms and ever-increasing heart rate. "I could've sworn that I just left the them in your equation."
"Did you?" Dr. Lecter answered coolly. "Did you really? Or did you just seize the only available out? The only option that was more appealing than prospective jail time? Hmmm?"
"That's bogus," she snapped. "I had the option of staying and trying to apprehend you - again. I didn't have to sit through your explanations. I didn't have to answer your letter."
"You stated earlier that I was an escape."
Starling's eyes narrowed, though her pulse was racing, even as her heart stopped hammering so feverishly at the prospect of being hunted by the law. The sirens were barely audible now, and they had recently crossed the Potomac, safely out of Washington. "I thought we established that that was a Freudian slip," she fired back challengingly.
"You also said that you still wanted my assistance," Dr. Lecter continued as though she hadn't spoken.
"A cross-country trip in a Toyota wasn't exactly what I had in mind."
"Nor I. But I am not so terribly high maintenance that--"
"Whatever!" Starling barked a snicker. It was the first laugh to escape her since their earlier duel, and the sound echoed like the release of burden through the small, compact atmosphere. "That's the biggest crock of--"
"No need to be vulgar, my dear," he cut her off abruptly, though she could tell he was laughing with her. "Another issue to discuss in the future. I was merely demonstrating that while recent events might have spoiled my immediate plans, I am not beyond amendable."
Starling rolled her eyes. "Well, of course! How does this hamper you? You've lost nothing, `cept perhaps whatever's left of that sanity of yours if you're going to put up with my yapping. I've lost..."
"Yes?"
"My life!"
A short silence settled over them.
"Tell me, Clarice. Tell me about your life. This splendid institution you have had so ruthlessly stolen from you. What will there be to miss? Rumors, allegations, inequality, corruptibility, deceit...the list seems endless."
His words stung mercilessly but she forced herself to endure it without flinching. Instead, she allowed a minute to pass before clearing her throat and suggesting, "How very shrewd. And those are just the good qualities."
She felt his eyes linger over her in scrutiny for a beat longer than she was comfortable but very familiar with. Still, she didn't blink or even return his gaze. When he began chuckling, her tension dissipated. "As slippery as always, Former Agent Starling."
"Wouldn't want to become predictable or anything."
"Hmmm...yes." His eyes had not moved from her face, finally coaxing her to glance over. Embedded in warm pupils was the fondness she had grown accustomed to over the years, not masking but coinciding with agitation and wonderment. Even now she had him on his toes.
It was easy to keep surprising someone when you continuously surprised yourself.
"Do I frighten you, Clarice?"
Starling's eyes narrowed, flabbergasted by both the spontaneity and content of his question. "What do you think?"
"Answer me honestly." A strangely serious tone had beset him. Best not to ignore it.
Courteously, she forced herself to confront it like any other inquiry. How many levels were there to this question? She didn't want to consider. Quicker than that, he wouldn't tolerate an answer laced in metaphors and fancy space fillers. "You don't scare me, Doctor," she replied sincerely. "I think you might if you really wanted to, and even so, I scare myself more than you ever could." She shook her head, startled by the truth in her own statement, but continued. "After all, who's crazier? The madman or the lunatic that follows him?"
All right, so she stole that from Star Wars. Big deal. It was true nonetheless. Either way, she wasn't surprised when he didn't accuse her of plagiarism. Dr. Lecter would never understand the beauty of such films.
That made her crack a brief smile that she wiped away fiercely before he could see it.
"You knew all this before you came to visit Ardelia," he accused softly.
"I did."
"And yet you still fear the loss of something so abusive?"
"Don't tell me I hurt your feelings, Dr. Lecter," she drawled dismissively. "Just because you can face the winds of change without blinking doesn't mean that the whole world has to. Despite how much I should be grateful, should be this and should be that, that doesn't make any difference in the fact that I was forced into it. I had no choice." She tossed another glance at him, stirred but not surprised by that the fog that masterfully shaded his thoughts had cast over his pupils.
"What do you believe you would have done, Clarice? Suppose the evening had progressed uninterrupted, and I had stood before you and offered my hand in escape. What would you have said?"
"It's too late for presumptions."
"I'm well aware of that. But who can truly label this as a presumption? Have I performed any ill-conceived activity that would lead you to believe this is the final end? That I intend to tie you up and force you to remain obediently at my side?" Repulsion at the implication rolled off his tongue alongside his words, sending small shivers of cold recognition through her body. "Surely you know that only the location has changed. My proposition, the very same I offered since you first opened my letter, remains unbothered." The test in his voice was stern and to the point.
Distantly, Starling saw herself as of an hour ago, sitting on the semi-comfortable edge of a hotel bed, sharing long looks with Dr. Lecter as thoughts collided in frenzied pandemonium. A million sensations soared through her tired form. There were two distinct paths before her. One, she could move on successfully and alone, stand to brave the winds of her new storm. After all, as a former law officer, avoiding the stylistic patterns of the ever-worshipped textbooks was really the only step required. She would need money, of course, but Starling had never been a big spender. Once she acquired what she needed, she could live comfortably off that with the assistance of odd jobs or whatever line of work she could manage. It was the defined opportunity of emancipation she had long awaited. A new life far from anyone who had ever heard her name.
Just how likely was that?
There was certain liberation in knowing she could do it should she need to. However, Starling discerned, she had known since she saw him when she entered the hotel room that she would never be satisfied with merely that. That which she had settled for her entire life.
And still, even now as they drove away, seemingly together, further and further from the home she had called her own, Starling didn't know exactly what it was he wanted from her. She had her ideas, of course, and was fairly certain of their accuracy. What troubled her was the knowledge of her reaction.
As always, his eyes were on her, ponderously studying, peeling away the shards and layers from her overly broken heart.
How much is one person allowed to hurt in a lifetime?
"I still want your help," Starling croaked at last, her throat raw from the emotional clot that now resided in her throat. "Of course I do. And more besides. If I hadn't wanted that, I wouldn't have gotten in the car."
"No? Are you sure?" There was no real surprise in his tone, no hidden innuendo, which similarly failed to catch her off guard. "You would have left me to your hounds, then, had there not been something tied into deal for your advantage?"
"No!" she growled, her voice stuck between octaves. "You would think that, though, wouldn't you?"
Dr. Lecter made no attempt to either defend his position or deny the accusation. Instead, he shrugged with infuriating simplicity, eyes lingering on her even as she had to devote her full attention to the road. This man never wavered. "Then pray tell me, Ex Special Agent Starling, if I am so misinformed."
Something within her snapped as angry words took the place of the lump in her throat, but she bit her tongue and harshly commanded herself not to release them just yet. The car swerved with impact as she steered to the shoulder and roughly set the gears in park. Gallingly, the doctor had not reflected change in the slightest. Starling twisted herself to face him in the seat, knowing he would not believe her unless he could hear it on her lips and read it in her eyes. Words were released without forethought or consideration. As for now, she didn't care if the whole world knew.
"I would've let you have the goddamn car," she said slowly, as though speaking to a detrimental child. "This one. You and Ardelia would've had to haul ass out of town. This was my mess and I brought you into it, or I let you bring yourself into it. I didn't have to answer your letter, first or second. Each time the price rose just a little bit, but I kept paying." Starling closed her eyes, not so much to dramatically establish the emphatic aspects of her argument as a product of genuine irritation. "The truth that's killing me, the truth that's easier to blame on you is I would've stayed had I not wanted to be here. That's what's driving me up the wall. The fact that I had that opportunity and the knowledge that I didn't take it out of manipulation." Eyes locked fiercely with his, she didn't take time to analyze the separate flames soaring behind each pupil. She was on a roll. "I tried that once before, Doctor, and I wasn't too thrilled with where it got me. I don't make the
same mistake twice - I make new ones. I wouldn't use you as an alternative to jail time. That's no fair to either of us." Her teeth clinched. "Is this what you wanted? Is this enough? Or should I write it in blood? I maintain that I had no choice, but what bothers me more is that I know it was inevitable and I would've gone with you anyway. Thrown away what there was of my life and gone ahead with you, wherever you wanted to go. Because I hate what they've done to me. I hate what I've become." At last, her temper started to dwindle. As she took deep breaths, reclaiming herself, she was relieved that he didn't seize the chance to speak. There was still something she had to get out. When she was sufficiently calmed, Starling looked up once more and said with agonizing sincerity, "If I didn't want to be here I wouldn't be. And. You. Know. It."
The air around her fell still as words melted into dark nothingness. she held his gaze firmly, knowing hers had to reflect the same conviction she spoke. It soared with dying guilt through her veins, the last of the confessions, the farewell to society. So long sweet society.
Fuck society.
Fire soared tantalizingly within his eyes, making her skin tingle. When at last he parted his lips to speak, Starling drew in a sharp breath, as though pausing to hear the final beatings of her heart.
"Do you really think, Clarice," Dr. Lecter said softly, his eyes caressing and his tone excruciatingly passive, "that I would have allowed you to stand aside and accept the fall for my lapse? Had it come to that, as you said, I would have gone to extremes to get you out of there, with or without your consent."
In relief and fondness, Starling released her breath and grinned solemnly, a grin of a thousand images. A thousand burdens. A thousand years. "I know," she whispered warmly. "But why? Why, Doctor? Why go to all this trouble? I've caused you more than its worth. What did you hope to gain from it?"
"I wanted to help you."
"I know it's not that simple."
"Then you know what I hoped to gain." Dr. Lecter settled back slightly as though the matter was of no more gravity than discussions of the Superbowl. "As you have known since I first wrote you. My goal has never been indistinct, Clarice."
"To you, maybe," she retorted shortly. "You know, Doc--"
In incisive disagreement, he shook his head. "No, no...you knew then and you know now. The question has structured and played time and time again inside that wonderfully complex mind of yours. All the while you are trapped in a sea of bad headlines and rather wild allegations, and despite your shroud of innocence, you see and recognize the truth, tuning out the rest of the mindless gossip. You have known for ten years, since Memphis. Certainly any additional confusion was eliminated at the late Mr. Krendler's lake house. After all, Clarice, why would I risk it? My life, or better, my freedom? What possible motives would I have, other than what is obvious?" As silence overtook them briefly once more, Starling recognized that her pulse had again elevated and her heart was hammering. Yes, she knew what he meant. At last he was returning the favor of being very frank, even if his message was coded in images that he did not thoroughly want deciphered.
Still, there was that rebellious strand of defiance lingering within her somewhere, and she called on it now. The mood was too serious.
"What is it you're trying to say?" Despite her attempts, her voice came out damp and emotional. She was grateful when his eyes did not cast darkly in shadow.
"You have your options laid out ahead of you, Clarice. You see them clearly; you have these long years. Conformity and the so-called promise of refuge, what is safe and known, even under these terms. It's there, waiting for one last fatal chance." The look on his face was positively shattering. Starling's previously immobile hands that lay obediently in her lap suddenly jerked with motion, her left reaching to grip the steering wheel. When he began speaking again she dug her nails deep into the leather.
"And then, of course, there is me."
Impatience ebbed her control, though she didn't know what to expect when it imminently snapped. "Why?" she heard herself ask.
Dr. Lecter's eyes widened, as though he couldn't believe she possessed the audacity to press him still, but still reflected the admiration behind it. She was wrestling for words, the rights to those words, words she needed to hear if they were ever to progress beyond this continuous struggle for dominance. If ever they were to maintain down this road, down the path to escape, and out the door to the rest of their lives.
And he knew it, of course, which was why he enjoyed toying with her so. "Why what?"
"Why are you there, down that path you mentioned? Why are you still here? Why are you always here, even and especially with every bitchy and naïve thing I've done to you? Why not give me what I deserve; Lord knows I've signed my own sentence more times than I can count. Why?"
At that, he bristled, shaking his head stubbornly. "You know the answer to that, Clarice."
"Tell me."
"No."
"Yes!"
"I love you."
The next thing Starling was aware of, she had been pulled across the seat and into his waiting arms. Or had she pounced him? It didn't matter. Newly unleashed liberation soared through her, freeing her at last from all prior constraints. The ghosts of old halls and loyalties died, not for the sake of being loved, but for the knowledge of what was mutually shared. With the release granted and the wonderful feel of his mouth moving against hers, nothing of the past or future mattered a damn. Now, with the barrier finally broken, all she cared about was seizing this long repressed fervor. It was unlike any kiss she had ever given or received in her life, and she knew, entangled in his arms that tightened as for fear she would drift away, that there was no other place she would rather be.
Then her cell phone rang.