Disclaimer: It's a sad fact, but I don't own Hannibal or Clarice or any other wonderful people (I mean, characters). They are all property of Thomas Harris. I assume you wonderful fic readers know this and don't think I actually created Hannibal. Only in my fondest dreams...
Author Note: Sorry about that, I get rather emotional talking about my beloved doctor. Read my story, and forgot my random ranting!
Chapter 5: The Irony of Good Fortune
A blur of red flashed through the airport. The lightening fast redhead toted a blue suitcase and brown handbag, both properly tagged "Property of FBI Agent Clarice Starling." 'Oh my god,' thought Clarice, trying to find her flight terminal. 'I missed my flight, I had to have missed my flight.' A quick glance at Clarice's watch told her that it was now 9:57. She had three minutes to turn in her bags and get on the plane. Three impossible minutes.
Clarice broke into a run with speed that surprised even herself, considering the suitcase she carried felt like it contained several bodies. Clarice gave up trying to find the terminal herself, she had to be on that flight! "Does anyone know where terminal H-3 is? Anyone!" Clarice looked around trying to find anyone who knew anything in this hell hole.
"Yes miss, down that hall to the right." A man with kind eyes and a sweet smile pointed out her terminal. "Are you running late?"
"Yes, I am. I have to check my bags, I can't miss that plane." Though she fought it, desperation had seeped into her sentence. But the stranger only smiled.
"Give me your bags, I'm an attendant on your flight. They won't leave without me, I will go check them for you."
"Um....." Clarice couldn't help hesitating, he was a stranger. 'But,' she thought, 'He's wearing a uniform, and he's so sweet...' "OK, thank you very much."
Again he smiled. "Don't worry miss, your bags will be on your flight in a moment. And by the way, my name is Steven Collier, just tell the person at the terminal I said to wait for me."
Good fortune had fallen into Clarice's lap just before she stood up. "Great, thank you!" She sprinted to the terminal and saw the clock: 10:01.
She began to run down the terminal when the attendant tried to stop her. "Ma'am your flight is about to leave!"
Clarice stopped, clearly expressing her annoyance for this woman who was only holding her up. "Steven Collier said to wait. Here's my ticket, now get out of my way before I miss the damn plane!"
The attendant smiled briefly, a fake smile that made Clarice think of a store mannequin. "Oh, Steven said that, huh? The captain won't be very happy... OK, hurry before your flight is sent to the runway."
Clarice broke the speed of light the whole way to the plane. To her surprise, there were people milling about the entrance, talking and getting settled in.
A young woman checked Agent Starling's ticket and showed her to her seat. It was on the aisle, but it was first class. Clarice had never gone anywhere first class, and she assumed this would be the only time. The bureau was really kissing her ass to make her happy, which Clarice assumed was to avoid a lawsuit from her rejection after the Drumgo killing and her last known encounter with the good doctor. Clarice would never file against the bureau, but they didn't know that. And until the day they figured it out, Clarice would have very comfortable travel accommodations.
She settled into her seat with her only carryon items, a tape player with headsets and a book. It was 10:10, and she was sitting in her seat, on her plane. She was off to Paris, and had completed everything on her list before she left, too. Perhaps this flight would be a nice relaxing start to her case, allowing her to calm down and read her book.
Clarice opened her book, the latest V.C. Andrews novel, and prepared to sink into the lives of young girls who triumphed the evils and always met their true love by the end of the book. She was stopped however, by a tap on her shoulder. "Hello miss, your bags are checked and in the cargo hold right now. I watched them load your suitcase myself."
The kind attendant stood over Clarice expecting no thanks, only acknowledgment that the task was completed. It was very sweet, and Clarice noticed that he was not at all bad looking, but in fact turned the heads of many young ladies onboard her flight. 'Not bad, not bad at all...'
"Thank you again, I would have missed my flight if you hadn't helped me. How can I repay you?" That sounded so stupid and feminine to Clarice that she could barely suppress the gagging motion her throat involuntarily made, as if to spit the bad taste of the phrase out.
"Just enjoy your flight miss. If you need anything, call on me."
"Certainly, thanks." Hmmm... he was quite attractive to watch, but he had a sway in his hips and a roving eye that rested on the male passengers that betrayed his sexual preference. 'Of course, I was trying to seduce the gay flight attendant... maybe I am losing my touch...'
The plane was called to the runway and Clarice strapped on her seatbelt. She took notice that no one currently occupied the seat next to her, and hoped that no one would. Clarice did enjoy a good view, and if the passenger next to her did not show up, she would take his/her seat. Until then, she decided to start on her book.
Once the plane was in the air, a man appeared from one the bathrooms on the back of the plane. His tan corduroys swished as he made his way to first class in the dark. Almost all the passengers had turned out their lights to get some sleep. But one light was on, in the seat next to his.
Clarice was thoroughly engrossed in her book, but she did take notice that someone sat in her window seat. She had finally gotten to a good part of her book, when the young woman meets her love and they have their first romantic interlude. The scene the author so vividly described caused her breath to slightly quicken. Unconsciously, Clarice leaned forward in her seat, absorbed by the young couples passion. She was so absorbed that she didn't notice her fellow passenger lean over her. She didn't pay him any notice until he turned out her light, and by then it was too late. As she turned to assault him with obscenities for his blatant rudeness, he covered her mouth with his hand.
"Are you reading something dirty Clarice?"
She fought against her seat mate until she recognized his voice. She froze, watching as his other hand slowly turned on his light. She sat face to face with her enemy, fascination and new passenger, Dr. Hannibal Lecter.
"I believe it would be in your best interest, as well as the interest of the other 96 passengers on this aircraft, to simply control your primal urge to knock me unconscious. We both know that I am much faster than you are, and the outcome of such a struggle could be catastrophic." Simply put, he was right. If she tried to fight him, there was no telling what he would do to the other passengers. She relaxed her shoulders and sank back into her seat. Now was not the time for a confrontation.
"Good Clarice. Just sit back and relax. We still have another eight hours on this flight."
Eight hours...
Author Note: Sorry about that, I get rather emotional talking about my beloved doctor. Read my story, and forgot my random ranting!
Chapter 5: The Irony of Good Fortune
A blur of red flashed through the airport. The lightening fast redhead toted a blue suitcase and brown handbag, both properly tagged "Property of FBI Agent Clarice Starling." 'Oh my god,' thought Clarice, trying to find her flight terminal. 'I missed my flight, I had to have missed my flight.' A quick glance at Clarice's watch told her that it was now 9:57. She had three minutes to turn in her bags and get on the plane. Three impossible minutes.
Clarice broke into a run with speed that surprised even herself, considering the suitcase she carried felt like it contained several bodies. Clarice gave up trying to find the terminal herself, she had to be on that flight! "Does anyone know where terminal H-3 is? Anyone!" Clarice looked around trying to find anyone who knew anything in this hell hole.
"Yes miss, down that hall to the right." A man with kind eyes and a sweet smile pointed out her terminal. "Are you running late?"
"Yes, I am. I have to check my bags, I can't miss that plane." Though she fought it, desperation had seeped into her sentence. But the stranger only smiled.
"Give me your bags, I'm an attendant on your flight. They won't leave without me, I will go check them for you."
"Um....." Clarice couldn't help hesitating, he was a stranger. 'But,' she thought, 'He's wearing a uniform, and he's so sweet...' "OK, thank you very much."
Again he smiled. "Don't worry miss, your bags will be on your flight in a moment. And by the way, my name is Steven Collier, just tell the person at the terminal I said to wait for me."
Good fortune had fallen into Clarice's lap just before she stood up. "Great, thank you!" She sprinted to the terminal and saw the clock: 10:01.
She began to run down the terminal when the attendant tried to stop her. "Ma'am your flight is about to leave!"
Clarice stopped, clearly expressing her annoyance for this woman who was only holding her up. "Steven Collier said to wait. Here's my ticket, now get out of my way before I miss the damn plane!"
The attendant smiled briefly, a fake smile that made Clarice think of a store mannequin. "Oh, Steven said that, huh? The captain won't be very happy... OK, hurry before your flight is sent to the runway."
Clarice broke the speed of light the whole way to the plane. To her surprise, there were people milling about the entrance, talking and getting settled in.
A young woman checked Agent Starling's ticket and showed her to her seat. It was on the aisle, but it was first class. Clarice had never gone anywhere first class, and she assumed this would be the only time. The bureau was really kissing her ass to make her happy, which Clarice assumed was to avoid a lawsuit from her rejection after the Drumgo killing and her last known encounter with the good doctor. Clarice would never file against the bureau, but they didn't know that. And until the day they figured it out, Clarice would have very comfortable travel accommodations.
She settled into her seat with her only carryon items, a tape player with headsets and a book. It was 10:10, and she was sitting in her seat, on her plane. She was off to Paris, and had completed everything on her list before she left, too. Perhaps this flight would be a nice relaxing start to her case, allowing her to calm down and read her book.
Clarice opened her book, the latest V.C. Andrews novel, and prepared to sink into the lives of young girls who triumphed the evils and always met their true love by the end of the book. She was stopped however, by a tap on her shoulder. "Hello miss, your bags are checked and in the cargo hold right now. I watched them load your suitcase myself."
The kind attendant stood over Clarice expecting no thanks, only acknowledgment that the task was completed. It was very sweet, and Clarice noticed that he was not at all bad looking, but in fact turned the heads of many young ladies onboard her flight. 'Not bad, not bad at all...'
"Thank you again, I would have missed my flight if you hadn't helped me. How can I repay you?" That sounded so stupid and feminine to Clarice that she could barely suppress the gagging motion her throat involuntarily made, as if to spit the bad taste of the phrase out.
"Just enjoy your flight miss. If you need anything, call on me."
"Certainly, thanks." Hmmm... he was quite attractive to watch, but he had a sway in his hips and a roving eye that rested on the male passengers that betrayed his sexual preference. 'Of course, I was trying to seduce the gay flight attendant... maybe I am losing my touch...'
The plane was called to the runway and Clarice strapped on her seatbelt. She took notice that no one currently occupied the seat next to her, and hoped that no one would. Clarice did enjoy a good view, and if the passenger next to her did not show up, she would take his/her seat. Until then, she decided to start on her book.
Once the plane was in the air, a man appeared from one the bathrooms on the back of the plane. His tan corduroys swished as he made his way to first class in the dark. Almost all the passengers had turned out their lights to get some sleep. But one light was on, in the seat next to his.
Clarice was thoroughly engrossed in her book, but she did take notice that someone sat in her window seat. She had finally gotten to a good part of her book, when the young woman meets her love and they have their first romantic interlude. The scene the author so vividly described caused her breath to slightly quicken. Unconsciously, Clarice leaned forward in her seat, absorbed by the young couples passion. She was so absorbed that she didn't notice her fellow passenger lean over her. She didn't pay him any notice until he turned out her light, and by then it was too late. As she turned to assault him with obscenities for his blatant rudeness, he covered her mouth with his hand.
"Are you reading something dirty Clarice?"
She fought against her seat mate until she recognized his voice. She froze, watching as his other hand slowly turned on his light. She sat face to face with her enemy, fascination and new passenger, Dr. Hannibal Lecter.
"I believe it would be in your best interest, as well as the interest of the other 96 passengers on this aircraft, to simply control your primal urge to knock me unconscious. We both know that I am much faster than you are, and the outcome of such a struggle could be catastrophic." Simply put, he was right. If she tried to fight him, there was no telling what he would do to the other passengers. She relaxed her shoulders and sank back into her seat. Now was not the time for a confrontation.
"Good Clarice. Just sit back and relax. We still have another eight hours on this flight."
Eight hours...
