It had taken quite a bit of effort and sneakiness, but he'd managed it. Freddie Lounds would no longer be a problem, and Hannibal had the ingredients he needed for tonight's dinner with Will
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Will isn't certain what to expect, other than perfection. Dr. Lecter had a penchant for immaculate presentation, that much Will knew, but whether this would remain a purely social encounter as the good doctor had promised, or devolve into a ham-handed psychiatric session... well, only time could tell. He certainly hopes that Lecter will keep true to his word; Will was just beginning to put a tentative trust in the man, and he can't help but sense that they share some likeness of spirit. Whatever that means.
He flattens a hand down the front of his suit - nothing particularly fancy, but well cut nonetheless - as he climbs the few steps to his host's front door. When he reaches out to ring the doorbell, his skin prickles as several drops of moisture land on his hand. Right, it's supposed to rain tonight, isn't it?
And he waits, listening to the resounding buzz of the bell, and the quiet swelling impact of raindrops against cement, hands in pockets.
Hannibal glances up at the sound of rain against the roof, pattering gently and providing a sort of soothing backdrop to the evening. Well, Hannibal finds the rain soothing, at least.
Then the buzzer sounds and he strides towards the door, ushering Will in and tutting at the young man's raindamp appearance. "Are you soaked through?" he asks, brushing droplets of water off Will's shoulders and offering his pocket square so Will can wipe down his glasses.
"Just a bit damp," he accepts the pocket square with a muttered 'thanks' before slipping his spectacles off to clear away beads of moisture from the lenses. It's only when he replaces his glasses and extends Hannibal's handkerchief back to him that Will has a moment to take in the doctor's sharp appearance; he's wearing a new suit - or, at least, one that Will has yet to see, and, absurdly, it makes him wonders if the man ever looks anything less than regal.
His gaze lingers for perhaps a second longer than it ought--
"Whatever it is you've decided to surprise me with, it smells fantastic."
The pocket square is carefully folded and tucked back into its proper pocket. Will is dressed a little nicer than usual, which Hannibal rather appreciates; perhaps not surprisingly, Will does look good in a suit. Though he'd look better in a suit tailored to fit him, but that can wait for another time.
"There's a roast in the oven, and our appetizer is chilling. Please, make yourself at home. I'll join you in the study in just a moment." He touches Will's arm lightly, letting his fingers slide down to linger at his elbow for just a moment before he goes to fetch the tartar.
"I feel spoiled already," ridding himself from the wet fabric of his suit jacket with a shrug, he drapes it over his arm and toes off his shoes. It strikes him that he's more finely attired now than he has been at any social event in recent memory (not that he attends many) and it's with some inward bafflement that he realizes it stems from an urge to impress Lecter. Best not mention it; psychiatrists have a tendency to latch onto that sort of information.
While Hannibal occupies himself with the tartar, Will enters the study. Unsurprisingly, the doctor's study is as immaculate as his office, all straightened papers and sketches and neatly arranged books.
It does amuse Hannibal that they seem to have dressed up for each other, and on some level, Hannibal wants very badly to impress Will, as well. It's so rare that he ever meets anyone like Will, and he wants desperately to try and keep him close. It will be a delicate balance, between enticing Will closer and not pushing hard enough to drive him away.
He joins Will in the study and settles the appetizer on the table; heart tartar and home made foie gras, with puff pastry and sliced cucumber. Then he selects an appropriate wine from the smallish rack he has in the corner and takes two glasses off the bar.
"I've always been more of a wine drinker than a liquor or cocktail drinker, myself. Would you like to join me, or can I offer you something else?"
The dull knock of dishes being placed on wood catch Will halfway between reaching for a leather-bound copy of A Manual of the Operations of Surgery. His hand drops as his index finger brushes over the spine, and he turns to accompany Hannibal by the table, immediately (and quietly) impressed by the presentation and obvious attention-to-detail his host applied in preparing the starter. Will supposes it shouldn't come as a surprise after having observed Lecter's delicate care in his professional field; what else did he expect? Lecter is precise - perfect, if anything.
"Wine is fine," and would make a decent change from cheap whiskey. "--Jack really wasn't exaggerating about the food," Will hasn't been eating much as of late - not much of an appetite - but it's only now that he acknowledges the sharp pain of hunger that had been little more than a distant throb since last night.
"Jack's been talking about my food?" Hannibal smiles and serves the wine, then settles across the table from Will. "At least he's saying good things. Otherwise, he might have to be uninvited."
He raises his glass and touches it to Will's with a rather contented expression, happy to have Will at his table at least and even more pleased that he's complimented the presentation already.
He flattens a hand down the front of his suit - nothing particularly fancy, but well cut nonetheless - as he climbs the few steps to his host's front door. When he reaches out to ring the doorbell, his skin prickles as several drops of moisture land on his hand. Right, it's supposed to rain tonight, isn't it?
And he waits, listening to the resounding buzz of the bell, and the quiet swelling impact of raindrops against cement, hands in pockets.
Reply
Then the buzzer sounds and he strides towards the door, ushering Will in and tutting at the young man's raindamp appearance. "Are you soaked through?" he asks, brushing droplets of water off Will's shoulders and offering his pocket square so Will can wipe down his glasses.
Reply
His gaze lingers for perhaps a second longer than it ought--
"Whatever it is you've decided to surprise me with, it smells fantastic."
Reply
"There's a roast in the oven, and our appetizer is chilling. Please, make yourself at home. I'll join you in the study in just a moment." He touches Will's arm lightly, letting his fingers slide down to linger at his elbow for just a moment before he goes to fetch the tartar.
Reply
While Hannibal occupies himself with the tartar, Will enters the study. Unsurprisingly, the doctor's study is as immaculate as his office, all straightened papers and sketches and neatly arranged books.
Reply
He joins Will in the study and settles the appetizer on the table; heart tartar and home made foie gras, with puff pastry and sliced cucumber. Then he selects an appropriate wine from the smallish rack he has in the corner and takes two glasses off the bar.
"I've always been more of a wine drinker than a liquor or cocktail drinker, myself. Would you like to join me, or can I offer you something else?"
Reply
"Wine is fine," and would make a decent change from cheap whiskey. "--Jack really wasn't exaggerating about the food," Will hasn't been eating much as of late - not much of an appetite - but it's only now that he acknowledges the sharp pain of hunger that had been little more than a distant throb since last night.
He slips into his seat.
Reply
He raises his glass and touches it to Will's with a rather contented expression, happy to have Will at his table at least and even more pleased that he's complimented the presentation already.
"Please, let me know what you think."
Reply
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