Disclaimer: Yadda yadda yadda, the first disclaimer applies to my whole story. I love Hannibal!
Chapter 6: The Eight Hour Tour
'Be quiet, don't scream, don't do anything stupid Agent Starling. Don't mess up again...' Clarice mentally disciplined herself, before she did something to put everyone's lives in danger. She glanced quickly to her left, at the window seat passenger. His left hand still covered her mouth, but his right was now turning off the overhead light. The whole time she sat stunned, he never took his eyes away from her, his red eyes that flashed brilliantly in the darkness.
"Please listen Clarice. My ticket is reserved under the name Beneti Maraghen. When we are in the company of a stewardess or passenger, you will refer to me as Ben, a long lost college professor and mentor. I know you don't have any weapons on you, but I do have a few on me. I did not expect you to endanger innocent lives, but I did anticipate your heroics. I only ask that you don't give me a reason to do something that you deem cruel and unjust. Fair?"
Clarice nodded without hesitation. She moved her head to the side to get out of his grasp, but he expected her movement.
^Shhhrrriiiiiiiikkkkkk^
Clarice felt her eyes widen. As soon as she had moved her head, he had removed his hand. And handcuffed it to hers.
She looked down at their now-linked arms. "Doctor, I wasn't trying to escape, just regain my ability to talk!" she whispered.
He sat back comfortably in his seat and pulled a cover from under it. Only after spreading it over their laps did he say, "Deja vu?"
"This isn't funny. Are we going to sit like this for eight hours? What if an attendant comes over?"
"We've already covered that."
Clarice brought her arm our from under the blanket. "What if I have to reach for something? I can't just use my right hand to grab a tray of food, or you use your left."
"True, but an attendant wanting a sizable tip would do it for you."
This arrangement was already becoming too much to handle. "What if one of us has to go to the bathroom?!"
Hannibal's eyes lit up. "I'm sure we'll think of.... something." The smirk that snuck up the side of his mouth was frightening to most, but commonplace to Clarice.
"Please doctor, save the sexual innuendo for now. I wish you'd take the cuffs off."
"I will, Clarice, when I am ready. For the moment, it would please me greatly if you would brush the hair out of your face. It succeeds only in clouding your beauty, and I believe your eyes hide many secrets behind a curtain of silken locks."
Begrudgingly, Clarice used her free arm to push back her hair, her eyes watching where his wandered. He was looking down at her chest, but not lustfully. She also looked down, and realized why he was gazing so intently.
"I'm glad you wore your necklace, although I am surprised that you didn't turn it over to the proper authorities. It looks beautiful on you."
Despite herself, Clarice felt a blush warm her cheeks. "I am the proper authority, doctor. And thank you, it's lovely. All your gifts were."
A smile of appreciation flirted in the doctor's eyes. "The necklace wasn't beautiful until it touched your neck. It simply radiates your own qualities."
Clarice was just beginning to get her mind focused back on their current situation when she felt his cuffed hand grab hers. He squeezed it tightly, almost tight enough to cause pain, but not quite. It seemed to be a way of keeping her attention. "Two years prior to this day, you said you would address me only by my given name. Let's not revert back to old habits."
"All right Hannibal, forgive me. In all fairness, it has been quite awhile since our last meeting."
"Of course you're right, but now you will remember. If you'll pardon me for a brief moment, I must check my passport papers. I fear that a blundering travel clerk got them out of order. Please, go back to your book..."
Clarice sat dumbly while Hannibal used his free hand to pull out a folder from next to his chair. He pulled out the papers inside and began to rifle through them, and doing quite well with his current handicap. She decided to go back to her book, though it would be difficult to hold with one hand.
Clarice held her book and pretended to read, but instead began to drink in her situation. She was sitting next to Hannibal Lecter, watching him sort through his papers while he held her hand. Clarice tried hard to think about the various people he ate, to see this man only as a cold blooded killer. While she tried to imagine him attacking those police in Memphis, or convincing Mason Verger to cut off his face, she still felt his hand holding hers. She couldn't see past his hand, her hand, under the covers, linked by cold metal.
It took almost two minutes, but finally Hannibal noticed her eyes on him. He watched her for a moment, then realized that he was still holding her hand.
"Forgive me Clarice, I did not want to inflict unwanted contact on you..." Hidden under the cover, Dr. Lecter released her hand, moving his own off of the armrest. By doing this, his arm dangled uncomfortably above his lap. But he wouldn't make Clarice feel uncomfortable in any way. "You should have said something."
Clarice watched his soul flit behind his eyes. She looked for emotion that was too well masked for her to observe. And she made a decision. "It's OK, you weren't bothering me." She casually reached into his seat and grasped his hand. It was soft and still warm from their previous touch. She squeezed it slowly, still watching him.
Hannibal looked from the cover to Clarice. He tried to imagine some plan she had come up with to try and capture him, but couldn't. Her eyes looked scared and... new. Like the day in the park... "Aren't you afraid of me Clarice? Aren't you afraid that I could lean over you at any second and eat out your eyes?"
"No," smiled Clarice. "You've had your chance, several chances, in fact. I figure that I either taste bad, or you think I'm cute." At her final statement, a look of incredulous wonder crossed the doctor's face.
"Indeed..." he mulled, as Clarice placed her headset over her pale ears. "Indeed."
Clarice congratulated herself on a witty ending to a conversation with the wittiest "person" she had ever known. She pressed PLAY on her tape player, not thinking about what tapes she had brought with her. She was automatically greeted with, "And what did you see Clarice..."
Shit.... she brought her Hannibal conversation collection, as a prep for the case. She didn't want to listen to these, not now. She had him here with her, what was the point? Not only that, but Clarice didn't want the doctor to know she had these with her. It seemed silly, but she didn't want him to know that was what she listened to in her spare time. It seemed obsessive. Then she remembered the photos. 'Hah,' she thought, 'I'm one to talk about obsessive. Those pictures...'
The tape played on, set to a rather loud volume. Hannibal was watching her, since she had squeezed his hand hard enough to hurt him at the start of her tape. She truly was a fascinating creature to observe. Each emotion played out in her eyes, making her seem as if she was acting out a play inside her head. He leaned in slightly, so slightly she didn't see or feel him move. He recognized the tape as a recording of his voice, something that apparently startled Clarice at the moment. He did her the service of pressing STOP on her player.
"I believe now is a good time to discuss your current case, don't you?" He wanted to get her away from the tapes, as they were obviously disturbing her. "Tell me why you let Crawford think I am the Washington killer."
Clarice was glad that he turned off her tape, but this is not what she wanted to talk about. Instead, she decided to take charge of this conversation. "Take off the handcuffs Hannibal."
"No Clarice, now don't be rude. We were discussing your case."
"No Hannibal, you brought that up. I would rather talk about something else."
Odd, he thought. He had been certain that she would tell him about her case, as it was the lone reason for her flight to Paris. But, his questions could wait. "What would you like to discuss?"
"First, I'd like to know how you knew I'd be on this plane and why you're here."
A smile. "Not to sound cliché, Agent Starling, but I have my sources. As for why I'm here, I wanted to talk about your information. My minds spins with the myriad of mistakes made by your bureau already. Do they honestly think I did committed this crime? I am insulted, and everyone knows what happens when someone crosses a deranged madman who's been insulted."
"I'm a part of the bureau. Are you going to eat me?"
"The answer to both is no. You aren't a part of the bureau, you're better then the bureau. And I'm not yet sure whether you're cute or simply inedible. I await the chance to find out..."
"As do I."
The doctor wore an expression on his face that neither he nor Clarice had seen on him: complete and total shock. "Clarice, you have shocked me completely, but don't say things you don't mean, they can get you into trouble."
"It seems to me that I'm already in trouble. And I don't say things I don't mean." Clarice looked very confidant and sure, Lecter almost didn't want to knock her out of her comfort.
The smile returns. "Oh, but you do. Anthrax island...."
And the confidence never faltered. "Crawford's not telling me what to say this time, Hannibal."
Hannibal was for once at a loss for a witty retort. He sat back in his chair and looked at his clock. There was time for his plan to work, time enough to work without a single mistake, given Clarice's new outlook on their 'relationship.'
He turned his head to Clarice and said only, "Seven more hours."
**Do you like how Hannibal's plan is unfolding? R/R!!! And I was thinking, that whoever reads at least three of my five fanfics can be featured in the final chapter, under either their given name or under their fic name. It could be fun.... Rahr, I love Hannibal (deja vous...) Well, gimme some feedback, and I love Frank N' Furter too!
Chapter 6: The Eight Hour Tour
'Be quiet, don't scream, don't do anything stupid Agent Starling. Don't mess up again...' Clarice mentally disciplined herself, before she did something to put everyone's lives in danger. She glanced quickly to her left, at the window seat passenger. His left hand still covered her mouth, but his right was now turning off the overhead light. The whole time she sat stunned, he never took his eyes away from her, his red eyes that flashed brilliantly in the darkness.
"Please listen Clarice. My ticket is reserved under the name Beneti Maraghen. When we are in the company of a stewardess or passenger, you will refer to me as Ben, a long lost college professor and mentor. I know you don't have any weapons on you, but I do have a few on me. I did not expect you to endanger innocent lives, but I did anticipate your heroics. I only ask that you don't give me a reason to do something that you deem cruel and unjust. Fair?"
Clarice nodded without hesitation. She moved her head to the side to get out of his grasp, but he expected her movement.
^Shhhrrriiiiiiiikkkkkk^
Clarice felt her eyes widen. As soon as she had moved her head, he had removed his hand. And handcuffed it to hers.
She looked down at their now-linked arms. "Doctor, I wasn't trying to escape, just regain my ability to talk!" she whispered.
He sat back comfortably in his seat and pulled a cover from under it. Only after spreading it over their laps did he say, "Deja vu?"
"This isn't funny. Are we going to sit like this for eight hours? What if an attendant comes over?"
"We've already covered that."
Clarice brought her arm our from under the blanket. "What if I have to reach for something? I can't just use my right hand to grab a tray of food, or you use your left."
"True, but an attendant wanting a sizable tip would do it for you."
This arrangement was already becoming too much to handle. "What if one of us has to go to the bathroom?!"
Hannibal's eyes lit up. "I'm sure we'll think of.... something." The smirk that snuck up the side of his mouth was frightening to most, but commonplace to Clarice.
"Please doctor, save the sexual innuendo for now. I wish you'd take the cuffs off."
"I will, Clarice, when I am ready. For the moment, it would please me greatly if you would brush the hair out of your face. It succeeds only in clouding your beauty, and I believe your eyes hide many secrets behind a curtain of silken locks."
Begrudgingly, Clarice used her free arm to push back her hair, her eyes watching where his wandered. He was looking down at her chest, but not lustfully. She also looked down, and realized why he was gazing so intently.
"I'm glad you wore your necklace, although I am surprised that you didn't turn it over to the proper authorities. It looks beautiful on you."
Despite herself, Clarice felt a blush warm her cheeks. "I am the proper authority, doctor. And thank you, it's lovely. All your gifts were."
A smile of appreciation flirted in the doctor's eyes. "The necklace wasn't beautiful until it touched your neck. It simply radiates your own qualities."
Clarice was just beginning to get her mind focused back on their current situation when she felt his cuffed hand grab hers. He squeezed it tightly, almost tight enough to cause pain, but not quite. It seemed to be a way of keeping her attention. "Two years prior to this day, you said you would address me only by my given name. Let's not revert back to old habits."
"All right Hannibal, forgive me. In all fairness, it has been quite awhile since our last meeting."
"Of course you're right, but now you will remember. If you'll pardon me for a brief moment, I must check my passport papers. I fear that a blundering travel clerk got them out of order. Please, go back to your book..."
Clarice sat dumbly while Hannibal used his free hand to pull out a folder from next to his chair. He pulled out the papers inside and began to rifle through them, and doing quite well with his current handicap. She decided to go back to her book, though it would be difficult to hold with one hand.
Clarice held her book and pretended to read, but instead began to drink in her situation. She was sitting next to Hannibal Lecter, watching him sort through his papers while he held her hand. Clarice tried hard to think about the various people he ate, to see this man only as a cold blooded killer. While she tried to imagine him attacking those police in Memphis, or convincing Mason Verger to cut off his face, she still felt his hand holding hers. She couldn't see past his hand, her hand, under the covers, linked by cold metal.
It took almost two minutes, but finally Hannibal noticed her eyes on him. He watched her for a moment, then realized that he was still holding her hand.
"Forgive me Clarice, I did not want to inflict unwanted contact on you..." Hidden under the cover, Dr. Lecter released her hand, moving his own off of the armrest. By doing this, his arm dangled uncomfortably above his lap. But he wouldn't make Clarice feel uncomfortable in any way. "You should have said something."
Clarice watched his soul flit behind his eyes. She looked for emotion that was too well masked for her to observe. And she made a decision. "It's OK, you weren't bothering me." She casually reached into his seat and grasped his hand. It was soft and still warm from their previous touch. She squeezed it slowly, still watching him.
Hannibal looked from the cover to Clarice. He tried to imagine some plan she had come up with to try and capture him, but couldn't. Her eyes looked scared and... new. Like the day in the park... "Aren't you afraid of me Clarice? Aren't you afraid that I could lean over you at any second and eat out your eyes?"
"No," smiled Clarice. "You've had your chance, several chances, in fact. I figure that I either taste bad, or you think I'm cute." At her final statement, a look of incredulous wonder crossed the doctor's face.
"Indeed..." he mulled, as Clarice placed her headset over her pale ears. "Indeed."
Clarice congratulated herself on a witty ending to a conversation with the wittiest "person" she had ever known. She pressed PLAY on her tape player, not thinking about what tapes she had brought with her. She was automatically greeted with, "And what did you see Clarice..."
Shit.... she brought her Hannibal conversation collection, as a prep for the case. She didn't want to listen to these, not now. She had him here with her, what was the point? Not only that, but Clarice didn't want the doctor to know she had these with her. It seemed silly, but she didn't want him to know that was what she listened to in her spare time. It seemed obsessive. Then she remembered the photos. 'Hah,' she thought, 'I'm one to talk about obsessive. Those pictures...'
The tape played on, set to a rather loud volume. Hannibal was watching her, since she had squeezed his hand hard enough to hurt him at the start of her tape. She truly was a fascinating creature to observe. Each emotion played out in her eyes, making her seem as if she was acting out a play inside her head. He leaned in slightly, so slightly she didn't see or feel him move. He recognized the tape as a recording of his voice, something that apparently startled Clarice at the moment. He did her the service of pressing STOP on her player.
"I believe now is a good time to discuss your current case, don't you?" He wanted to get her away from the tapes, as they were obviously disturbing her. "Tell me why you let Crawford think I am the Washington killer."
Clarice was glad that he turned off her tape, but this is not what she wanted to talk about. Instead, she decided to take charge of this conversation. "Take off the handcuffs Hannibal."
"No Clarice, now don't be rude. We were discussing your case."
"No Hannibal, you brought that up. I would rather talk about something else."
Odd, he thought. He had been certain that she would tell him about her case, as it was the lone reason for her flight to Paris. But, his questions could wait. "What would you like to discuss?"
"First, I'd like to know how you knew I'd be on this plane and why you're here."
A smile. "Not to sound cliché, Agent Starling, but I have my sources. As for why I'm here, I wanted to talk about your information. My minds spins with the myriad of mistakes made by your bureau already. Do they honestly think I did committed this crime? I am insulted, and everyone knows what happens when someone crosses a deranged madman who's been insulted."
"I'm a part of the bureau. Are you going to eat me?"
"The answer to both is no. You aren't a part of the bureau, you're better then the bureau. And I'm not yet sure whether you're cute or simply inedible. I await the chance to find out..."
"As do I."
The doctor wore an expression on his face that neither he nor Clarice had seen on him: complete and total shock. "Clarice, you have shocked me completely, but don't say things you don't mean, they can get you into trouble."
"It seems to me that I'm already in trouble. And I don't say things I don't mean." Clarice looked very confidant and sure, Lecter almost didn't want to knock her out of her comfort.
The smile returns. "Oh, but you do. Anthrax island...."
And the confidence never faltered. "Crawford's not telling me what to say this time, Hannibal."
Hannibal was for once at a loss for a witty retort. He sat back in his chair and looked at his clock. There was time for his plan to work, time enough to work without a single mistake, given Clarice's new outlook on their 'relationship.'
He turned his head to Clarice and said only, "Seven more hours."
**Do you like how Hannibal's plan is unfolding? R/R!!! And I was thinking, that whoever reads at least three of my five fanfics can be featured in the final chapter, under either their given name or under their fic name. It could be fun.... Rahr, I love Hannibal (deja vous...) Well, gimme some feedback, and I love Frank N' Furter too!
