(Untitled)

[suspects_ravens]

It's morning.

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[suspects_ravens]

It's yesterday again.

Damn.

All right. Time to be proactive.

Midmorning sees the Hannibals outside, burying Stephen Just's body.

They even lay flowers across the grave, although it is otherwise unmarked, in a gesture of whimsical solemnity.

[eidetiker]

"--What the hell are you doing?"

[suspects_ravens]

One of her looks up from the flowers, rubbing dirt-smudged hands over dirt-smudged pants in a futile effort to clean either.

"Hello, Will."

"We're leaving flowers at a grave."

As you do.

[eidetiker]

"You're -- did you bury the body?"

He sounds confused, mostly.

[suspects_ravens]

"Yes."

She raises her eyebrows.

[eidetiker]

The confusion turns into slightly bewildered affront and suspicion.

"This is the scene of a murder. Why did you bury him?"

[suspects_ravens]

Hannibal shrugs easily.

"This is Milliways. No one has jurisdiction to investigate. We didn't want to leave him for the crows."

[eidetiker]

"Jurisdiction or not, I've been asked to investigate."

Frowning, his eyes flick between them.

(I -- I almost had it.)

"The people who killed him are a danger to the bar."

[suspects_ravens]

"Not necessarily."

Her fingers trail over soft petals as she stands to join her double.

"Asked by whom?"

[eidetiker]

"The patrons who found the body."

[suspects_ravens]

"And did you need anything further from the scene?" Hannibal inquires lightly.

[eidetiker]

"I was hoping to spend some time here, yes."

[suspects_ravens]

Silent, wordlessly apologetic shrug.

[eidetiker]

He eyes them for a few moments.

"Did you know the victim?"

[suspects_ravens]

"Not very well." Shrug. "We'd met."

Once.

[eidetiker]

"Well enough you felt you should bury him."

Will has no illusions about Hannibal Lecter's fascination with death in anyone, stranger or not, of course.