moitié d'une voûte

'Dr. Lecter.' Starling breathed, incapacitated and unnerved by his sudden appearance for a moment, but no longer than that. Instinct kicked in, her right hand diving to where her holster would ride. Her fingers found nothing, sliding along her hip clothed in black silk. Shock and realization registered plainly on her face, her actions earning a chuckle from the doctor.

'Clarice, you are decidedly unarmed this evening.' His lips curved into a smile, and Clarice met his eyes hard. Her mind was racing. Quick. Decision time. She was limited on options. Taking him down herself would be foolish, she knew what he was capable of, even if it was only secondhand knowledge. Scream for help? No, that would provoke a riot, plus she had no idea how he'd react- leave her, or leave with her. Call him on that latter thought.

'You said you'd never call on me, Dr. Lecter.' Tone neutral, she was calm, do not attempt any aggression, her mind told her.

Dr. Lecter nodded. 'That I did promise you Clarice, and perhaps your definition of that promise and mine are two different things. Note that I also told you that the world was more interesting with you in it. I would never call on you to, say, seek retribution for your efforts to re-incarcerate me.' He paused, thinking, then grinned and winked at her. 'Social calls, however, are another matter entirely.'

Something important here. Courtesy. Barney had survived during his time with Lecter because of his sheer courtesy towards the infamous sociopath. He had extended courtesy to her, and he would not renege on his promise. She hoped. It was quite a lot to place your life on the word of a serial killer. 'I'd prefer to keep our relationship professional, Doctor.' she heard herself telling him. She saw him considering, nodding, but preparing to disagree. Not the right path, Starling informed herself. No way back now.

Before Dr. Lecter could respond to her request a third voice intruded. 'Clarice?' rebounded off the corridor walls, causing two pairs of eyes to flick in its direction. A mix of concern and relief flooded Clarice's features, but she stood mute too long. Her name bounded down the corridor again, growing louder as her saviour came closer. Dr. Lecter seized the moment, reaching up with him right hand to gently touch her cheek, directing her attention back on him. Her eyes locked with his, wide as he lowered his face to hers. Everything in her body and instinct told her to scream, but she remained mute, just watching in eerie fascination. She wasn't expecting the sensation, the softness, when his lips brushed hers.

'Bye, Clarice.' he murmured, drawing away and quickly walking down the hall, disappearing out a marked emergency door. Clarice started, intending to bolt after him, but stopped just short of her first step when she heard Noble's voice behind her.

'Clarice!' she whipped her head, looking stricken, unable to pursue, and unable to give up the chase. Pilcher's faced harboured concern, fear instantly flooding his system. His wife was yearning towards the red lit exit sign, and he began to hurry towards her, polished wingtips scuffing against the floor. The distress was even more evident up close, and he grabbed her shoulders, turning her towards him, looking past her shoulder at the door. 'Clarice? Are you okay?' he looked down at her, brushing a loose strand of hair form her face. 'Clarice?'

She caught his hand, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. Just for a second... 'I... I'm okay, Pilch. There was a...' serial killer? No, hold onto that. 'There was a man, he startled me and took off when he heard you coming.' Noble's eyes widened.

'Where'd he go? Clarice, did he do anything to you?' she could hear fear in his voice, and something upset. He'd been unable to protect her. She shook her head, smiled a weak little smile.

'I'm fine. Don't worry about it, I was just a little startled.' She squeezed his hand, which she hadn't yet let go of. It eased her husband a little, but not by much. She didn't tell him that anything Dr. Lecter had done to had already been done long ago. Pilch was talking to her softly, and she was walking with him down the hallway. He retrieved her coat from where it had fallen to the floor in his dash to her, and draped it over her shoulders. They left the museum by a side entrance.

Starling was quiet on the car ride home, her mind pouring over her encounter. She eventually came down to it. Seeing him hadn't disturbed her the most. What she felt after that kiss, and what still lingered there, bothered her the most. There was something inviting about the abyss she had glimpsed, tempting like the street below a suicide jumper. Somewhere at the bottom, after the pain and before the light, he waited for her.

Noble stayed awake most of the night, watching his love toss and turn in her sleep. She spoke incoherently, in random snatches he never fully understood. The only thing he knew for certain was the violent 'No!' he'd received when he'd reached to comfort her. He sat, suddenly feeling very distant, and very alone. It was like watching a suicide jumper take that step and rush at you, and knowing there was nothing you could do now to save them.
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