Disclaimer: Oh, please... I LOVE THOMAS HARRIS!!!!

Chapter 10: A Change of Plans

Hannibal felt the brute strength in Clarice's grip. He saw the rage flash in her eye, among so many conflicting thoughts. He watched as the realization of what she was doing settled on her face, and grinned wickedly.

"Bad dream, Clarice?"

Whether she missed the sarcasm or choose to ignore it, he didn't know. She settled back in her seat, letting the wave of the present settle over her. She looked at him blankly, trying to think of something intelligent to explain why she had attacked him.

"I'm sorry Hannibal. I'm... sorry." Clarice shrugged with a bitter laugh. "Didn't mean to go FBI on you..."

"No apologies, my dear. I found your outburst to be most... intriguing. Might I ask what you were dreaming?"

The flash in her eye. "Not now. Remind me though, and I'll tell you later."

Hannibal did not enjoy waiting, not normally, but he would wait for her. "I never forget. Now, if you don't mind visiting the past Clarice, quid pro quo. A trite statement, I know, but I want you to tell me why you you sound so bitter about your F..B..I..." His tiny white teeth gleamed in the darkness of the plane. "Please tell..."

Clarice looked away and sighed. "Can I tell you something? Of course I can, forget I said that. My life is worthless to the FBI. I didn't know it, or at least, refused to face it, until recently. I could go out on the firing range and shoot myself in the face, and I don't think any one person from the bureau would be upset. Maybe Jack would, maybe on a personal level, but I'm sure that's it. You could eat me up right now, and I would only be a post script on the next office memo. That's all I am to them.

"I gave my life to the bureau. I let the badge comfort me, and the gun give me control. But--" Clarice's eyes shined bright from the tears unshed. "They didn't, not really. I let the bureau be my family, and I gave myself to them willingly. I sacrificed a happy life, a family, and surely my sanity. I thought devotion and ambition were all I needed to make a career, and look at me. I'm the agent no one wants to take a case with, the embarrassing officer who would benefit her department best by being swept under the proverbial rug. And you knew didn't you?" The tears dripped down her pale cheeks. Her voice faltered, little more than a whisper. "You knew..."

She sniffed quietly, brushing the tears from her cheeks with her fingertips. "I believe I remember a quid pro quo, Doctor. Your turn. Tell me why you're here, what your plan is."

Hannibal shifted his weight in the seat so that he could face her. "Clarice, I believe you know why I am here. As for a plan, well, I really didn't have one. I wanted only to find you, to see you again. Of course, I had to discuss the case with you, but I also missed your haunted eyes. They are haunted, did you know that? The ghosts of your mind are well hidden, but definetly there. I have often wondered, Clarice, did the lambs ever stop? Have you found peace within yourself? I hope you have, your daddy would be glad to know it."

Clarice propped her head on her arm, taking on a thoughtful pose. "The lambs have stopped Hannibal. They have long been replaced by other memories, much more appealing ones. I have soothed my sore thoughts, healed them to the best of my capabilities." Clarice cast her eyes coyly toward her seatmate. "But, I'm sure that what I need is a doctor..."

Hannibal nodded. "I am certain you do, Clarice, I know just the person. He is--"

Hannibal's words were interrupted by the kind, though rather alternative flight attendant. "Hello Ms. Starling, I need to check your tickets please."

Red eyes were flashing menacingly at the attendant, but Clarice stepped in. "Um, Stephan, right? You already saw my ticket, before the flight. Why do you want to see our tickets now?"

Stephan tilted his head a little, speaking in a voice one would use on a small child. "New security measures, I have to be sure that everyone is in their proper places. Tickets, please?"

Hannibal withdrew his wallet and handed the homosexual Stephan his ticket. Stephan checked it, looking up at the distinguished and foreign older man. 'Nice,' thought Stephan, 'just my type...'

Stephan smiled a seductive smile and handed the man his ticket back. "Sir, I'm sorry, but this is not your seat. You are on the right side of the plane, five rows up. If you'll come with me, I'll show you to your seat."

Clarice broke in again. "Stephan, its OK, the person who was supposed to sit here couldn't come. This is an old college professor of mine, I don't mind him sitting here."

"No, he can't sit here Miss Starling. Come with me professor..." Stephan began to walk down the aisle toward Hannibal's seat, working the quirky swagger in his hips to its full effect.

Hannibal was not amused. His anger was steadily rising, though the ordinary person might not notice. He leaned to Clarice, his words short. "I will take care of him, my dear." A glance at his watch. "There are four hours left in our flight, let me see what I can do..."

Clarice knew Hannibal all too well to let him 'see what he could do.' It would not be the best way to handle their current situation, she knew, picturing Stephan's entrails flying off the back of the plane like a flag. She grabbed the doctor's arm calmly. "No, Hannibal, don't do anything. I will talk to him and I'm sure you will be back here in no time, OK? This isn't a big deal. Go ahead and take my case file to look at, keep yourself busy." She smiled.

Hannibal scowled and took her papers. "As you wish, Clarice. I do so hate this interuption..." On that note, Hannibal stood and walked to his seat, the seat listed on his ticket. The young Stephan showed him where everything was, while at the same time flirting outrageously. Hannibal was thoroughly disgusted. 'Only for you, Clarice...' he thought.

Clarice watched from her own seat, watched the repulsive display that the flight attendant so adamently displayed toward Hannibal. She wondered what he wanted to do to Stephan, how much self-control it took for him not to tear off the young man's privates...

As Clarice pondered, an announcement came over the speakers. "Attention folks, this is your captain speaking. I just got word from Paris that they are experiencing some bad weather. We will be unable to land at the scheduled destination, but instead we will be landing in twenty minutes in the National Airport in Portugal. We are very sorry for any inconvinience, and ask that you now fasten your seatbelts in preparation for landing. Thank you."

Stephan looked confused, then retreated to the back of the plane with the other attendants. Hannibal looked back to Clarice, ready to move to his original seat, but she stood swiftly. With a stoney look of determination, Clarice disappeared to the back of the plane...

...and Hannibal drew out the case files to wait for her return.