Extended Vacation

copyright 2001, by DianaLecter

Disclaimer:    The characters Dr. Hannibal Lecter and Clarice Starling were created by Thomas Harris.  They are used herein without permission, but in the spirit of admiration and respect.  No infringement of copyright is intended, and no profit, of any kind, is made by the creator, maintainer or contributors to this site.

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Starling stared at him blankly and blinked several times before finding it within herself to answer. “What do you mean…he’s here?”

To her outmost surprise, Dr. Lecter did not seem entirely concerned, rather amused still. She wondered how he continuously saw things as one large joke as opposed to what they were. Even still, his casual mention of her old boss in town did soothe her a bit; if he wasn’t concerned then she shouldn’t be…right?

“Temper, temper. He doesn’t know anything…yet.” Dr. Lecter smiled deviously. “He has convinced himself that I have silenced you from contacting him, which isn’t, I suppose, altogether untrue.”

Starling stared at him, her eyes unblinking in astonishment. “And yet…you’re perfectly calm about it. Do you not think he’ll report this to the Bureau? Crawford hates you, as much as I’ve seen him hate a person. Every time your name was mentioned, he’d make a face to express his distaste. I-”

“Calm down, Clarice. I know I’m not Jack’s favorite person, nor is he one of mine. I should think that’s perfectly obvious. The way I left things with him, he knows very well that reporting my presence here is not an option; not yet.”

Starling sighed and lowered herself to the chair beside the dresser in the hotel bedroom. Distress streaked across her eyes, and she knew she wouldn’t be comfortable until they were both safely out of the country. Also, she knew if Crawford was here, Mapp couldn’t be too far behind him.

“My dear, please, it’s unpleasant to see you frown,” Dr. Lecter said, taking a seat on the bed on the opposing side of the room. “I should think my assurances would be more than enough to ease you on this matter.”

Starling looked up, catching the sight of her reflection in his eyes. “How do you plan to keep him quiet? Even if he doesn’t talk now, he will eventually.”

“Yes, that could be a problem. I know you would disapprove of killing him.”

“Well…” He talked about killing so casually, as though they were bickering over what movie to rent. It frightened her in many ways, but what startled her more was the idea that she was getting used to it, that she was considering it as though it indeed were an option.

“Ah, there it is.”

She looked up, shaking herself back to the present. “What?”

“Hesitation. You forgot who I was for a minute, didn’t you? My dear, I believe you were cautioned never to forget that. Is it wise to stop considering that now, especially with our new arrangement?” His eyes weren’t cold, rather imploring, but still she felt like she was hit by a winter blizzard.

She hoped it wasn’t too late for that. “I’m sorry. There are some things I will have to get used to.”

“That’s understandable, but you knew what you were doing the night we began this…expedition, of sorts. ‘Because I said yes,’ I believe that’s the reason you issued when I told you that what was started shouldn’t be explored.” There was something else in his eyes now, perhaps a tiny ounce of withdraw, or fear that she would leave and turn him in. It took only that for her to recall his continuous reference to the authorities the first day they spent together.

“I am still saying yes,” she replied. “And I’ll continue to do so. But there are things I’ll have to get used to. I don’t want Jack Crawford killed; he’s been too influential on my life.”

“Ah, I see,” Dr. Lecter replied, a bitter tone at the end of his voice. “More so than myself?”

“Good heavens no,” she answered without hesitation, knowing immediately that it was the truth. By her tone, and the persistence in her eyes, she hoped he would know it, too.

Biting back a sigh of relief as his eyes softened, Starling felt her tension drop, though she remained alert.

More harshness melted from his eyes. “Don’t worry, Clarice,” he said finally, his voice much softer but seemingly more audible than before. “I suppose there are certain things I must get used to as well.”

She didn’t want to comment for she feared it would upset him once more, and she never wanted to find herself in that position again. They had been so blissfully happy this past month. Damn Jack Crawford, damn him! He started this, he got this going, and he was ruining everything. Starling felt her fists clinch as her nails dug into her open palms deep enough to draw blood.

Anger must have reflected in her eyes, for Dr. Lecter was smiling when she looked at him again.

“That’s my girl,” he said teasingly. The coldness was gone from his tone, completely gone. She hoped it would remain that way forever. “Well, I suppose we’ll have to run the risk that he does indeed report us. Since killing him is out of the question,” his narrowed at her briefly as he said this, but again, the clouds lifted and he continued, “the travel arrangements I orchestrated will have to do.”

“Why won’t he talk now? You seem very sure of that.”

Dr. Lecter smiled, for a minute seeming incredibly boyish, like a child cornered into admittance of his first felony, whether it be as minor as lifting a pack of gum from a supermarket. “Jack and I had a nice discussion. I inquired about his interest in this case, merely to prove my original point. He does indeed want you, Clarice, he told me so himself.”

Starling stared at him blankly for a minute. “Why on earth would he tell you that?”

In a flash, the Harpy blade appeared in his hand, and he tapped it against his teeth as the corners of his mouth drew into a wider smile. “Let’s just say, I have several methods that have proven very successful in the past.”

At that, Starling chuckled. It was an absurd sound, to think that she was laughing when she knew a threat had been made from the man she was sleeping with to the man whom had sent her to him, a man that reminded her so much of her father at times it was difficult to breathe. She recalled her immense distaste for Crawford in the days before Hannibal Lecter, and realized that not only had her infatuation with her lover began then, her friendship with Crawford had also blossomed. All this, simply because of Catherine Martin, a girl she had exchanged letters with for a few short years after the Buffalo Bill case was closed, had sat in the damp darkness in a hole in the ground.

She suddenly felt indebted to the late Jame Gumb for starting all this, and was ashamed to admit it.

“What did he do after that?” she heard herself asking, leaning against the dresser now as she brought her legs under her, mimicking the image of a child being read a bedtime story.

“Hmm. I expressed my interest, as nonexistent as it was, and said you would be most anxious to hear that. So, he knows that I at least know where you are, and that reporting our situation would do little more than give you time to get out of the country, as well as keep me silent.” Dr. Lecter’s eyes danced. “He does seem to want you very much, Clarice.”

Starling rolled her eyes. “I don’t give a damn.”

Dr. Lecter chuckled, flashing the Harpy blade away in the blink of an eye.

See there, Clarice, there is a master of quick movement. Little ‘now you see it, now you don’t’ action and POOF! It’s gone!

Starling clamped her teeth tightly on the side of her mouth to bait away the smile that tickled her lips.

“When are our plane reservations?” she asked a minute later.

“Two days.”

Nearly falling out of her seat, Starling fought to maintain balance while she repeated in astonishment, “Two days?!”

“It was the soonest I could manage, my dear. I can’t exactly work miracles.”

No, you can’t, she admitted to herself. But damn, it sure feels like it, at times.

“Okay, okay…I’m settling down.”

“Good to know.” He flashed another smile.

With a smirk, she continued: “Did you, by chance, see Ardelia?”

“Your former roommate?”

“Yes.”

Dr. Lecter paused thoughtfully. “No,” he said after a minute. “However, I do suspect that she’s here. As much as I would like to believe Jack to be completely naïve, I am quite sure he at least has the wit about him to not come alone.”

Starling nodded, having been thinking the same. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

Dr. Lecter looked at her inquisitively. “Oh? And why is that? Do you believe she would exercise the lack of intelligence to report us?”

A breath past before Starling continued. “No,” she said, “but she knows me much more than Mr. Crawford does. If she’s here, she’ll know where to look for me.”

A faint smile flashed again from across the room. “Everywhere except here, my dear. I doubt that sense of taste you adapted before traveling overseas could have been born and tested before those you know in such little time.”

Finally, Starling smiled, a genuine smile. “That is true. She would die if she saw me here.”

“And wouldn’t that be a pity?”

Starling smirked, recoiling from her position in the chair finally and standing, making her way toward him. Standing before him now, she encouraged each of his massive arms to close around her waist, enjoying the effect of looking down at him after so many years of feeling inferior. She knew now that she was not inferior, he wouldn’t allow himself to be with someone inferior. No, she was an equal. She allowed herself to straddle him, her legs enclosing around his torso. If he hadn’t been holding her, she would have fallen off the bed.

This must have occurred to him for he nipped at her mouth playfully as he loosened his hold on her waist, causing her to gasp and cling to him. At that, he let out a chuckle. “Mmm, little Starling,” he said, very much amused. “Do you find yourself on unstable ground? I caution you, you might find yourself injured one of these days.”

“I’m sure I’d be more concerned about it,” she retorted, her tone equally amused and perhaps more playful, “if I indeed did find myself on unstable ground. I think, though, that all is stable. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Hmm,” he replied. “Agree? Oh, I suppose so. Rather, I feel somewhat inclined.” Before she could reply, he kissed her wildly, his hands drawing tightly on her waist to pull her closer. With masterful ease, he drew away and flipped her, her backside on the mattress now, and smiled as he lowered his head.

***

“What do you mean, he’s here?” Ardelia Mapp demanded Jack Crawford when he returned to the motel later that afternoon. The words rolled out of her mouth leisurely, and she paused for a minute. Had Starling been in the room, they would have burst out laughing at the concept. As roommates, they had often jinxed each other’s speech.

“Hannibal Lecter is here,” Crawford repeated. He was getting a migraine and he slumped onto the bed, reclining as though by force, rubbing his face tiredly.

“He has her!” Mapp screamed, bolting from her seat next to the window. “He has to have her! That’s the only thing that makes any goddamn sense!”

“I know! I know!” came the reply, meek yet forceful at the same time.

“Well?”

Crawford sat up wearily, realizing this was going to be a lengthy conversation. “Well what?”

“Aren’t you going to get your ass on the phone and report him?”

A look of pain streaked across his face, and he lurched his head forward into his waiting hands. “I can’t,” he confessed, his voice straining with stress. “If I report him, he’ll kill her, or we’ll never find her. As long as we don’t know where she is, we can’t do anything. We’re sitting ducks.”

“Then get off your ass and outside!” Mapp yelled. Anger shot through her eyes, anger and utter disbelief. “We’re federal agents! We don’t just sit around when we know one of our own is in the clutches of…of…”

“She’s not ‘one of our own’ anymore, Ardelia,” Crawford said, looking up. “She’s a civilian. He took pleasure in reminding me.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck what she is!” Her voice echoed outside of the room and down the hall. “All I know is we’re wasting time!”

“Ardelia, he took my gun.”

“You have a back-up.”

“Yes, I know that. You don’t know Hannibal Lecter, though. He’s sly. He’ll-”

“We should consider more of what we’re going to do to him, not what he’ll do to us,” Mapp retorted angrily.

Gaining some composure and a sense of control, Crawford felt his temper rising. “Face it, Mapp!” he yelled, jumping to his feet. His voice startled her and she jumped a bit. “We can’t do anything right now. It’s late. We can’t go scavenging the city without any clue as to where they might be. We’ll wear ourselves out! Now calm down. We’ll follow this up tomorrow.”

As if to signify that this was the final say, Crawford shook his head and paraded out of her room and to his own, two doors down.

***

The next day, Starling was doing some last minute shopping, being very sure to scan every store before entering. Even in the month that she had been here, very few clothing purchases had been made, and she knew that a slightly broader wardrobe would be needed for their next destination, which Dr. Lecter informed her was a town north of here, still in France as that seemed perfectly logical. At first, she had complained, saying that leaving the country was the wiser decision, but he quickly made her see his point. Everyone would assume them to run to another country, and would waste time pursuing other couples that had booked flights to places that held certain Lecterisms to them. By the time they circled the globe and eventually found themselves again in France, they could safely move to another country.

Starling hated being wrong, but she knew better than to forfeit their safety and well-being simply because the idea was new. It was the better solution, she knew, and agreed without much persuasion.

The town was called Nice, pronounced Neece, and was likewise a step to avoid tourist attractions.

After their relations the night before, Dr. Lecter showed her the .45 he gathered from Crawford that day, and expressed his enthusiasm for her to take it as her own. “You have a liking for firearms,” he had said. “However clumsy they might be.”

Nevertheless, she was very relieved to have some form of protection on her. The thought of purchasing a gun that had first drifted through her mind when she first arrived in France returned, and though it was issued to Jack Crawford, she wanted to be very sure he never got it back. Now, as her’s had once been, it was straddled to her waist, assisting in soothing her nerves.

Starling took her purchases and started for the exit of her current shop. Just as she was about to push the door open, a large gasp caught her attention, and she froze.

Slowly turning, Starling’s eyes met those of one Ardelia Mapp, and her heart stopped.

Fin

Part 3 of 5

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