7
Clarice felt ill. She was right behind him, only a few feet away, and he never once was getting out of her sight. That might have pleased anyone else, but she knew that the only way she'd have such an easy time of following him would be if he wanted her to give chase. She couldn't quite quell the feeling that she was playing right into his hands, doing exactly what he wanted.
She had the unshakable idea that he was smiling, as he kept up his steady pace away from her.
But there's no escape this time, doctor, Clarice thought to herself, picking up the pace a little. It ends now...
Her thoughts trailed off. She stopped. There was a rather scruffy man apparently laying down across a row of chairs, facing the wall. What stopped her was the fact that he had a headset nearly falling off his head.
Closer inspection proved her initial reaction to be right. It was one of the other agents working with her, unconscious.
Clarice didn't pause to wonder when he'd been attacked, she just took a deep breath and rushed after Hannibal. He had left her sight in the few seconds she took, and that made her go all the more swiftly. He had been so careful up until that point not to go too fast for her, the fact that he'd vanished was unnerving... particularly knowing that he was apparently quite able to tell who was an agent. Though that, really, shouldn't have been much of a surprise.
He's a goddamn superman, she couldn't help but think, filling the silence that had arrived... with a complete lack of voices echoing in her headphones. She didn't bother to ask if the other agents were all right. She knew that they were unconscious, if they were lucky, or more likely dead.
It seemed odd how little it troubled her that her fellow agents were in peril. She had one focal point. That was him. No matter what else may be providing distractions, she couldn't lose sight of him. If only she could find him again, she'd be certain to do just that.
It felt as though only minutes had passed since she'd arrived in the airport, apprehensive about the search and disguised so... well. It seemed like only minutes. So when the disembodied voice came over the speakers she froze in shock. It couldn't be, not already...
Yet the message was repeated.
"Flight 54 is now boarding at gate twelve."
**********
"I can't believe I'm doing this," Clarice said to herself, scarcely aware that she was speaking aloud until she got a response.
"Spur of a moment kinda thang? Yeh, yeh, I gotcha. Had m' own love trouble few y'rs back, chased th' boy all th' way off't Tahiti! Tahiti. T' bad he couldn' be goin' there, eh?" the woman standing behind the counter replied, as she handed over a boarding pass.
Clarice took it with a faint smile, and ultimately tuned the lady out. The boarding was just about done, but she had been in time. She'd managed to get a seat. She felt completely dazed as she was hurried onto the plane by the flight attendants into coach... it was no surprise that Dr. Lecter wasn't back there. He would undoubtedly be flying first class, anything else would be an assault on his senses.
"I'm flying to Paris," she whispered to herself, quiet enough so not to disturb the other passengers. She just needed to work out in her mind exactly what she was doing. Why she was doing it. "I'm flying to Paris, chasing one of the FBI's ten most wanted. No one knows where I am. I don't have my phone." She paused in her analyzing for a moment, before adding one last thing. "And I'm afraid."
There, probably the most difficult thing she could admit to herself.
She just wouldn't analyze what it was she was afraid of.
Yes, leaving it at that seemed perfectly reasonable.
**********
This flight did not get off to a good start. That would seem to be expected seeing the circumstances, but it got even worse.
The movie playing was none other than Titanic. A fine movie, sure, but when one is in a plane one does not exactly want to see films featuring large transports sinking, falling, crashing, or doing anything else that a transport oughtn't do.
Not to mention that the meals were up to the usual airline standard, and because she felt as though she were still on duty she couldn't even indulge in a small glass of wine.
It wasn't pleasant. But the hours went by, as they tend to do, and Clarice managed to interest herself in the movie for awhile, to stop her thoughts buzzing around in her mind until she couldn't make heads or tails of them. On-screen Rose and Jack were sharing one of those many touching moments... and after a moment she realized that it was just about at the end, judging from how blue they both looked.
It was right when Rose was pushing her frozen lover off the wooden plank that Clarice became aware of his presence behind her.
Not Jack's.
His.
She remained perfectly still, staring at the TV screen, as he silently slipped into the empty seat beside her.
It almost gave her a thrill that she was able to predict his next words, that she knew exactly how they'd sound, and what inflection he'd give them.
"Hello, Clarice."
Yes, that was the opening line in all their encounters, and he always said it the same way. That small hint of a hiss at the end of her name, as though he were loath to finish speaking it.
"Hello Dr. Lecter," she said in return, as calm as if she were meeting an old friend at the supermarket.
"Such a surprise, meeting you here. You can't imagine my pleasure when I saw you in the lobby... though I must say, Clarice, black hair doesn't suit you one bit. I'm glad you ditched the wig, I was almost concerned that it might be rabid."
Clarice couldn't help but give the faintest hint of a smile at that. Her thoughts had tended in the same direction as well, when she first saw her 'costume'. That her wig might still be alive.
She could feel him smiling as well. She didn't look over at him, she hadn't since he sat down, but she could feel his lips curving, and she could feel his eyes moving over her face.
We begin to covet the things we see everyday... don't you feel eyes moving over your body... and don't your eyes move over the things you want?
That brief snippet of their conversation flashed through her mind but for an instant, but it distracted her so that she almost didn't hear the next words out of the doctor's mouth.
"You know, I believe that's the first time I've seen you smile."
Damn him, Clarice thought to herself as the smile slipped from her lips.
Yet that didn't seem to help. She could still feel him being amused by her, sitting there at her side. "Now, why so tense, Agent Starling?"
Oh, because you're a cannibalistic madman that I'm supposed to be arresting, but instead I'm sitting here watching Titanic and listening to you making chit-chat, she thought. But she didn't say it. Her mind was racing too quickly for anything intelligent to come out, and so silence seemed the best approach to take.
She knew he'd get to the point eventually. The catch. The purpose behind this twisted game he'd been playing with her.
But he didn't say anything.
Old Rose dropped the heart shaped necklace into the water, and watched it sink down... down...
She felt the tear rolling down her cheek. Down... down... down...
Luckily it was the cheek away from him, where he wouldn't be able to see it. She really didn't want him to know the uncontrollable emotions that he inflicted on her, even with the most innocent of statements. Just by coming close.
It was just stress, after all.
She heard him shift in his seat, so that he could lean over and place his lips next to her ear.
"I'm going to go back to my seat now... Clarice. I just wanted to tell you that now is when the decision must be made. There's no going back after this." He paused for a minute, and she felt him smile again. "And you're looking very well tonight."
Then he was gone. It was eerie, the ease with which he'd just... vanish. Melt away into the shadows. Or into first-class, as the case may be.
But Clarice was left as she was, frozen, trying to hold back tears. She didn't even know why she was crying. She had been through worse psychological damage before, when encountering him. It seemed such a small thing to make her cry.
She looked across the aisle, finally moving, to glance towards the first- class section.
Her eye was caught by a middle-age woman, sitting just a couple rows away. She was in tears too, and gave Clarice a smile of understanding.
She whispered across, "This is my favorite movie too."
Clarice felt the tears falling freely, with that. Suddenly the decision was quite clear indeed. She knew the choice she had to make.
She just didn't know if she could make it.
********
Author's Note: I know, I took a long time again. Evil bad Potatohead! But you're all darling, being so patient with me, and not trying to make me into hash browns or anything. Yay! Okay, thanks go out to LadyOfTruths, troesnaja, SJ, chameleon302, DianaLecter, Samantha Bridges, zara, Satai Nad, Horserider, dear dear Steel, Hanniballover1181, dear dear Nanci, Shattered Mug, and whisper! Eeee! Lots of people! And I adore each and every one of you. Every time I get a review it gives me a sudden spurt of inspiration. You're all darling for sticking with me this long! Ooh, and enjoying it, too! That makes it even better ^.^ Now... bumbumbum. What will she decide? What is she deciding? Will she survive the rest of the trip to Paris without spontaneously combusting? Will she survive, period? Next time...
Clarice felt ill. She was right behind him, only a few feet away, and he never once was getting out of her sight. That might have pleased anyone else, but she knew that the only way she'd have such an easy time of following him would be if he wanted her to give chase. She couldn't quite quell the feeling that she was playing right into his hands, doing exactly what he wanted.
She had the unshakable idea that he was smiling, as he kept up his steady pace away from her.
But there's no escape this time, doctor, Clarice thought to herself, picking up the pace a little. It ends now...
Her thoughts trailed off. She stopped. There was a rather scruffy man apparently laying down across a row of chairs, facing the wall. What stopped her was the fact that he had a headset nearly falling off his head.
Closer inspection proved her initial reaction to be right. It was one of the other agents working with her, unconscious.
Clarice didn't pause to wonder when he'd been attacked, she just took a deep breath and rushed after Hannibal. He had left her sight in the few seconds she took, and that made her go all the more swiftly. He had been so careful up until that point not to go too fast for her, the fact that he'd vanished was unnerving... particularly knowing that he was apparently quite able to tell who was an agent. Though that, really, shouldn't have been much of a surprise.
He's a goddamn superman, she couldn't help but think, filling the silence that had arrived... with a complete lack of voices echoing in her headphones. She didn't bother to ask if the other agents were all right. She knew that they were unconscious, if they were lucky, or more likely dead.
It seemed odd how little it troubled her that her fellow agents were in peril. She had one focal point. That was him. No matter what else may be providing distractions, she couldn't lose sight of him. If only she could find him again, she'd be certain to do just that.
It felt as though only minutes had passed since she'd arrived in the airport, apprehensive about the search and disguised so... well. It seemed like only minutes. So when the disembodied voice came over the speakers she froze in shock. It couldn't be, not already...
Yet the message was repeated.
"Flight 54 is now boarding at gate twelve."
**********
"I can't believe I'm doing this," Clarice said to herself, scarcely aware that she was speaking aloud until she got a response.
"Spur of a moment kinda thang? Yeh, yeh, I gotcha. Had m' own love trouble few y'rs back, chased th' boy all th' way off't Tahiti! Tahiti. T' bad he couldn' be goin' there, eh?" the woman standing behind the counter replied, as she handed over a boarding pass.
Clarice took it with a faint smile, and ultimately tuned the lady out. The boarding was just about done, but she had been in time. She'd managed to get a seat. She felt completely dazed as she was hurried onto the plane by the flight attendants into coach... it was no surprise that Dr. Lecter wasn't back there. He would undoubtedly be flying first class, anything else would be an assault on his senses.
"I'm flying to Paris," she whispered to herself, quiet enough so not to disturb the other passengers. She just needed to work out in her mind exactly what she was doing. Why she was doing it. "I'm flying to Paris, chasing one of the FBI's ten most wanted. No one knows where I am. I don't have my phone." She paused in her analyzing for a moment, before adding one last thing. "And I'm afraid."
There, probably the most difficult thing she could admit to herself.
She just wouldn't analyze what it was she was afraid of.
Yes, leaving it at that seemed perfectly reasonable.
**********
This flight did not get off to a good start. That would seem to be expected seeing the circumstances, but it got even worse.
The movie playing was none other than Titanic. A fine movie, sure, but when one is in a plane one does not exactly want to see films featuring large transports sinking, falling, crashing, or doing anything else that a transport oughtn't do.
Not to mention that the meals were up to the usual airline standard, and because she felt as though she were still on duty she couldn't even indulge in a small glass of wine.
It wasn't pleasant. But the hours went by, as they tend to do, and Clarice managed to interest herself in the movie for awhile, to stop her thoughts buzzing around in her mind until she couldn't make heads or tails of them. On-screen Rose and Jack were sharing one of those many touching moments... and after a moment she realized that it was just about at the end, judging from how blue they both looked.
It was right when Rose was pushing her frozen lover off the wooden plank that Clarice became aware of his presence behind her.
Not Jack's.
His.
She remained perfectly still, staring at the TV screen, as he silently slipped into the empty seat beside her.
It almost gave her a thrill that she was able to predict his next words, that she knew exactly how they'd sound, and what inflection he'd give them.
"Hello, Clarice."
Yes, that was the opening line in all their encounters, and he always said it the same way. That small hint of a hiss at the end of her name, as though he were loath to finish speaking it.
"Hello Dr. Lecter," she said in return, as calm as if she were meeting an old friend at the supermarket.
"Such a surprise, meeting you here. You can't imagine my pleasure when I saw you in the lobby... though I must say, Clarice, black hair doesn't suit you one bit. I'm glad you ditched the wig, I was almost concerned that it might be rabid."
Clarice couldn't help but give the faintest hint of a smile at that. Her thoughts had tended in the same direction as well, when she first saw her 'costume'. That her wig might still be alive.
She could feel him smiling as well. She didn't look over at him, she hadn't since he sat down, but she could feel his lips curving, and she could feel his eyes moving over her face.
We begin to covet the things we see everyday... don't you feel eyes moving over your body... and don't your eyes move over the things you want?
That brief snippet of their conversation flashed through her mind but for an instant, but it distracted her so that she almost didn't hear the next words out of the doctor's mouth.
"You know, I believe that's the first time I've seen you smile."
Damn him, Clarice thought to herself as the smile slipped from her lips.
Yet that didn't seem to help. She could still feel him being amused by her, sitting there at her side. "Now, why so tense, Agent Starling?"
Oh, because you're a cannibalistic madman that I'm supposed to be arresting, but instead I'm sitting here watching Titanic and listening to you making chit-chat, she thought. But she didn't say it. Her mind was racing too quickly for anything intelligent to come out, and so silence seemed the best approach to take.
She knew he'd get to the point eventually. The catch. The purpose behind this twisted game he'd been playing with her.
But he didn't say anything.
Old Rose dropped the heart shaped necklace into the water, and watched it sink down... down...
She felt the tear rolling down her cheek. Down... down... down...
Luckily it was the cheek away from him, where he wouldn't be able to see it. She really didn't want him to know the uncontrollable emotions that he inflicted on her, even with the most innocent of statements. Just by coming close.
It was just stress, after all.
She heard him shift in his seat, so that he could lean over and place his lips next to her ear.
"I'm going to go back to my seat now... Clarice. I just wanted to tell you that now is when the decision must be made. There's no going back after this." He paused for a minute, and she felt him smile again. "And you're looking very well tonight."
Then he was gone. It was eerie, the ease with which he'd just... vanish. Melt away into the shadows. Or into first-class, as the case may be.
But Clarice was left as she was, frozen, trying to hold back tears. She didn't even know why she was crying. She had been through worse psychological damage before, when encountering him. It seemed such a small thing to make her cry.
She looked across the aisle, finally moving, to glance towards the first- class section.
Her eye was caught by a middle-age woman, sitting just a couple rows away. She was in tears too, and gave Clarice a smile of understanding.
She whispered across, "This is my favorite movie too."
Clarice felt the tears falling freely, with that. Suddenly the decision was quite clear indeed. She knew the choice she had to make.
She just didn't know if she could make it.
********
Author's Note: I know, I took a long time again. Evil bad Potatohead! But you're all darling, being so patient with me, and not trying to make me into hash browns or anything. Yay! Okay, thanks go out to LadyOfTruths, troesnaja, SJ, chameleon302, DianaLecter, Samantha Bridges, zara, Satai Nad, Horserider, dear dear Steel, Hanniballover1181, dear dear Nanci, Shattered Mug, and whisper! Eeee! Lots of people! And I adore each and every one of you. Every time I get a review it gives me a sudden spurt of inspiration. You're all darling for sticking with me this long! Ooh, and enjoying it, too! That makes it even better ^.^ Now... bumbumbum. What will she decide? What is she deciding? Will she survive the rest of the trip to Paris without spontaneously combusting? Will she survive, period? Next time...