Chapter Text
He heard the high-pitched, sceptical laugh of one of his female associates come from his left side and his collocutor turned towards the sound with slight, faintly amused smirk and a raised eyebrow.
He followed her example and turned slightly to the left, and therefore towards Alana, to physically join the conversation.
“-courting you?” he heard said and he felt Alana straighten in clear pride.
“Of course not, but we are together. You can ask him yourself,” she stated dryly, before she turned towards him with a flutter of her eye lashes and leaned herself against him. Or at least, she tried. He was not one for public displays of intimacy, and he kept his stance relaxed but closed off from her with his arm parallel to his side and not around her as she might have hoped for. Her posture and position was mostly subconscious on her part, but she was openly and knowingly flirting with him.
He had always wondered why women and some assorted men felt the need to bat their cilia when they wanted something from a man. He was aware that she was not actually sexually aroused, he would have smelled that, but that she wanted to play upon his protective instinct somehow.
He knew that the current environment could be incredibly hostile, with the wealthy acting like well-dressed and well-healed vultures. They remained polite, always, but the verbal prodding and dissections could become incredibly vicious. He had always enjoyed that triteness within the very people who despised being seen as banal. It was, however, not an environs he felt she needed protection in.
Privately amused, he wondered what she wanted to be protected from if not the wealthy. What could frighten a psychiatrist who dealt with the mentally deficient individuals who were capable of acts that horrified the majority of humanity? The monsters of this world, among which he could be counted? The piercing, judgemental gazes of his peers?
“We are together, Hannibal, are we not?” she asked him as she lightly stroked the left lapel of his formal dinner jacket. It was not as overly exhibitive as some of his more obnoxious, and very short, dalliances had been. He was normally very fastidious about his chosen lovers, but every once in a while an interesting acquaintance acted different after they had become more intimate. He was always quick to make it very evident that he was not interested in being objectified or being turned into a display for the amusement or security of others.
He sometimes wondered if he would feel similar if it had been Will on his arm, flirting with him, touching him so casually. He was never quite sure of the answer, though his dream had shown him that he at least subconsciously wished to do something as trivial as hold hands with the younger man.
Alana was not trying to be unbearable about it, but she was somewhat possessive of him. She had always been, both when she had been his mentee and he had saved her, and when they had been friendly acquaintances. Now that they were having their little affair, she felt confident enough to touch him in public in a manner she had never before.
He wondered not for the first time if she had been as possessive of Will as she was of him. She had never let anyone within their community know that she knew him and had access to his brain and way of thinking, after all.
“I brought you as my plus one for this season’s opening, yes,” he responded calmly with a slightly raised eyebrow in feigned curiosity. He was aware of what she was attempting to achieve. She was far from the first one to try and turn a brief affair with him into something else, though she truly did so because she was infatuated with him. Most of the others had been after his wealth or his status only.
Alana stuck out her painted underlip in a slight pout as she nestled even closer to him. It was meant to entice, but it just made him exasperated. He had made it very, plainly clear to her that he was looking for a distraction with her. A pleasant, but short entanglement, and not for a spouse. She was not the one he envisioned in that role if he even considered his marital status. Or lack thereof.
He would cook for her, he would share his evenings and bed with her one or two times a week, and he would take her along to certain events or join her if she had any. But he would not show her off as his partner, their lives remained separate, and after a while they would go their own, distinct way. She was not the person he wanted to become domestic with. That honour was for another brunette.
It was obvious that she wanted more from him, however, and that she expected to get it. This was the third event in as many weeks that she was insisted to join in on, and normally that would mean something within the society he was part of. However, it was known that he only had dalliances and she was not the first one he had brought along for a handful of nights in succession. In fact, one of his longest affairs had been with a married soprano who had accompanied him for little over a year. Even then, it had evidently been a not so secret, opportunistic liaison on both sides and not an actual relationship. The woman’s husband had even been aware and had heartily approved it, though he adored her very much.
The scepticism and amusement of his acquaintances was therefore not a surprise. Just like some of his shorter entanglements in the past, though less obnoxious, Alana was too naively obvious about her intentions and her wishes.
She looked beautiful, dressed as she was in a burgundy red dress and her nearly black heels, her dark hair in an elegant updo, and her make-up used to highlight her fine features. However, she would get no compliment or credits here as she had tried too hard. The dress was clearly expensive to the point of being gaudy, the heels were too recognisably from a known brand, and her make-up and hair was noticeably done by someone famous for their work. Compared to his own understated, well-fitting three piece suit made from the finest quality material in solid black and crisp white, she was metaphorically wearing the price tag on her non-existing sleeve.
One did not need to display the wealth one had. Or in her case, the wealth she believed she needed to showcase as being her own so as not to be seen as a gold digger.
“Alana, please, keep some decorum,” he chided her softly and gently as he removed himself from her grasp. Some of the individuals near them would hear it, of course, but they were too polite to draw attention to her. Too polite, yes, but they were not kind and Alana would be discussed in private conversations for the foreseeable future.
She appeared properly chastened, but he knew that she would bring their relationship status up when they were alone. For now, however, she would leave him be to enjoy his evening.
oOo
Their affair did have its positive aspects. Alana was intelligent and could be insightful, and made a lovely dinner partner on top of a decent alibi. She had also a direct connection to Will and was more than willing to talk about him due to her worry about him.
At first, when she had still been angry with the darling special agent, it was because she worried for his safety. Will had him nearly killed after all. Later, when she had been made to realise that that worry was not only unfounded but the unsolicited attack had happened to keep her safe from a perceived threat, it was because she worried about Will’s state of mind.
Regardless, it kept him as up to date about Will as he could get without talking to the man.
It also helped that she was a decent lover.
However, it was not enough and the negatives far outweighed the positives.
oOoOoOo
Alana had asked him to join her for a class reunion of her college or high school and, as he had some business in the area anyway, he had promised he would join her for at least part of it. While he was aware that she wanted to renew contacts with former classmates and show off her own success in life, of which he and their affair were a part, he saw it as an anthropological excursion into a specific part of the American culture.
He had always been fascinated with the way his patients acted and reacted when they mentioned their class reunion. It caused heavy anxiety in some of them as they had the feeling that they had too show off their success in life, in others it created sheer spite when they discussed the very idea of going. When he had made the mistake to search online for more information on the phenomenon, he had been taken aback by the sheer amount of references to popular media he had found. He was looking forward to see for himself how a class reunion differed from his alumni engagements.
He had made his way over towards the car rental desk as soon as his plane had landed and he had gotten his luggage. He was not staying long, but he had chosen to have his suits and assorted tools flown in as special baggage.
The procedure at the rental desk had taken more time than expected, as Alana had promised him she had already booked a specific car for him she was sure he would like. Instead of just signing and paying, however, he had quickly realised that the car chosen by her would not fit with his preferences. She had reserved a Jaguar F-type for him, and while that specific brand and specific type of car was normally one he would have appreciated, she had gone for price over performance. The engine was just not up to par, and it lacked space for both passengers and luggage. In the end he had gone for the Ford Mustang GT Fastback with a better engine, more power and more room to store certain items.
On the other hand, his business took less time than he had expected and the visit with one of his acquaintances he was using as an alibi was pleasant and took up most of his afternoon and part of the early evening. The gap of time in which he could not be accounted for, the short period between his arrival on the airport and said visit, could easily be excused by his rental car. After all, which car enthusiast, not that he would describe himself as such, would not want to try out a new model they had not driven before? If anyone were to think to look for the GPS data of the car, or the car tracker itself, it would not show him anywhere near the remains of his victim, the location of his victim’s car, or the last location his victim had been seen at. Technology would form the best alibi he could wish for.
He arrived only four hours after the start of Alana’s school reunion and without much fanfare. He entered the main room of the hired conference centre as soon as he realised that Alana was not near the entrance and he looked around with some diversive curiosity.
The room was festively decorated with colourful buntings and flags hanging from the walls and ceiling, with banners welcoming the alumni home for the weekend, and large stars painted gold and silver decorating every empty spot. It looked almost elegant, in a nearly childish manner.
The people present were casually dressed in clearly newly bought clothing with the intention to impress, and he felt a slight pang of disappointment at Alana for wanting to be part of the sheer pretentiousness of everyone present. The reunion was not so much about meeting up with individuals one had been close with during their formative period, but entirely about showing off how far they made it in life. While at least some of those present were actually trying to catch up with people they had not seen for a while, most of them already knew one another and were just trying to impress everyone present.
It appeared as if the short blurs he had read on class reunions in popular media had been right after all, though they had exaggerated the details and the drama.
As far as he could determine from both the cars parked near the centre and the clothing, the overly tanned and overly trained, but essentially unfunctional muscularity, the watches and jewellery displayed, only the successful people or the ones that would love nothing more than to see their bullies finally brought down were present. The ones who would be deemed unsuccessful did not dare appear at such events.
It became apparent why Alana had reserved the Jaguar for him, the Mustang was conspicuous between the expensive, mainly European, import cars. He wondered with some amusement if she would have flown in his Bentley Flying Spur if she could have paid for it, or if she could have convinced him to do so on her behalf for the short period he was in the state.
Even his navy bleu, three-piece, bespoke suit matched with an off-white dress shirt, a burgundy tie, and neatly shined black dress shoes was distinguished, though it was an outfit he regularly wore. Most people present showed off their casual but expensive brand polos and jeans, their brand hand bags large enough to be considered ludicrously capacious, their overly large brand watches that made bending the wrist tiresome, their brand shoes and their brand jewellery. This was a crowd that firmly believed that the more recognizable the brands they wore were, the more obvious the wealth they had was.
He pondered briefly if Will would go to the reunion of one of his many high schools, but he expelled the thought immediately. Will would not care for such a shindig, which consisted of crowds of people looking down on him for not caring to dress for the occasion, superficial people bragging about accomplishments they had not truly achieved or earned, and not a single interesting or in depth conversation to be found. Will would not even consider going, no matter how successful he was or how much money he had earned. It was a shame. He would have enjoyed displaying himself for Will and his intelligence to the reprehensible masses, and not in the way he normally displayed the undeserving.
He was glad to see that he had missed the dinner and speech part, and that the alumni were currently mingling. It meant that he would not have to give an excuse for not joining the buffet. He briefly entertained getting a glass of wine, but the lack of actual glassware made him reconsider.
In the end, it was the yearbook that drew his attention and he started to leave through it to see if he could find Alana, or someone else he might know in passing.
“Hannibal!” Alana said delighted but loudly, and he looked up from the page he had been scanning. It was clear to him that she had already partaken copiously from the wine though she was not quite drunk yet. Her cheeks were stained with a blush that had nothing to do with embarrassment or the room temperature, and she held herself loosely, “you came!”
She made her way over towards him. She hooked her arm possessively through his and kissed him on the cheek in greeting. Like her peers, she was dressed fashionably in a branded satin, grey-on-red, wrap-around dress and the same dark heels she wore when she joined him for his art-inclined outings.
People had looked up from their conversations at her call and they were quickly joined by some of her former classmates and their spouses. He was aware that they were scrutinising him, his clothing, and Alana’s proximity to him. The closest comparison he could think of was fresh meat surrounded by a pack of lowly scavengers. Where his own peers might be similar to sharks or at worst vultures, who at least ate their prey when it was still alive on occasion, these individuals could only be compared to flies. No other scavenger was so weak, so easy to chase away, and incapable of hunting on their own, not even the carrion beetle who would hunt after the larvae of other insects. They were just trying to determine if he was their definition of prey or too much of a bother to deal with. He doubted they realised that he could not care less of their opinion of him.
“Alana,” he greeted her calmly in return, “how have you been?”
“Always so polite,” she tittered, before she added slyly, “did you like the car I got you?”
“Not particularly,” he told her honestly, before he turned towards the men and women surrounding them, “good evening, my name is Hannibal Lecter. I am a colleague of doctor Bloom.”
“Not just a colleague, if Alana is right,” one of the women said guilefully without introducing herself, “she made you sound like quite the catch.”
“You a European count or something?” one of the men, who was clearly already inebriated on the middle-shelf wine, demanded to know, “something Soviet?”
“Like Dracula?” one of the women asked in delight, “your accent sounds similar to that actor in that one movie.”
“Something like that,” he answered coolly, and he turned his head slightly towards Alana with a raised eyebrow. She did not see it as she leaned forwards and started to boast about him and his achievements.
“What was that about a car?” one of the other men asked forcefully, though the jealousy could be clearly heard, “Alana bought you a car? Is she the breadwinner in your relationship? Did she get you that suit?”
“She booked me a Jaguar at the car rental at the airport,” he stated aloofly. He was already getting disinterested in the entire conversation. It did not paint a good picture for the rest of the event.
The crowd they had gained was clearly trying to place him in a certain category. He was unaware what Alana’s smug introduction of him when he had been absent had contained, but it was plain that they did not quite know what to make of him. They could not place his accent and he doubted that they even knew where Lithuania was located within Europe. They could not place the brand of his suit, though it was clear to them that it was high-quality. They were aware that he was rich, but they could not determine his monetary worth based on his understated clothing and watch and the lack of any visible brand. His indifference to the vehicle mentioned just bewildered them more.
He, on the other hand, had already determined what class of people he was dealing with. He might not have Will’s skills and expertise and he might not be able to read their profession from their callouses or the way they walked, but he was fully capable of reading people and he had seen enough individuals just like them in his practice. He could easily determine who of those currently surrounding him was cheating on their partner, who was addicted to something, who was bored with their life and trying to fill the emptiness with fancy cars and fancy clothing, and who was feeling unsure about themselves and needed the feeling of power that belittling others brought them.
He was surrounded by mundane, plebeian individuals who suffered from delusions of grandeur because they had money. No, Will would have hated coming to such a reunion, not even to show him off. It would not have been worth the mental drain it would have put on that delightful mind.
“What is wrong with a Jaguar?” the same man asked, his voice somewhere between intrigued and outraged, “too much power in a car for you?”
“There is nothing wrong with the brand itself. The particular car just did not meat my preferences and requirements,” he said neutrally, “the performance of the specific F-type reserved was not up to par so I went for the GT Fastback.”
“A Mustang?” someone new butted in, “are you trying to fit in with the American Dream or something?”
The people around them laughed gleefully at the perceived insult.
“What do you normally drive, a Lada?” the first man piped up with a hiccoughing laugh, to the confusion of some of the others present who evidently did not recognise the name of the brand.
“With that suit?” one of the women chimed in, “some kind of Porsche. One of those cabrio ones.”
“A Boxter,” her probable partner added in agreement, “the kind of car a middle-aged man with some money to spend, a much younger woman as arm candy after a divorce and a mid-life crisis would buy.”
Alana tightened her grip on his arm in clear discomfort at the rudeness. She knew how much he disliked boorish behaviour. They turned towards him, clearly expecting him to answer the unspoked questions. He kept silent, his face relaxed in an aloof expression. What did he care for their opinion on him? They would not even make decent prey to him. Their slights were childish, and showed how weak a character they actually had. He could not bring himself to care for the opinions of a set of frat boys and the ditzy girls getting on in the years trying to relive their school popularity.
She answered hotly in his stead, convinced that such an attack on him was an insult to her, “he was never married, and he drives some kind of luxury car. Something British. The one with the triple headlights.”
That caused the men to laugh louder, “triple headlights? Women and their interest in cars.”
The group moved away, having clearly put him into the category of what had been described before. He had some money, had recently divorced and had fallen into a mid-life crisis so he bought an expensive, sporty car and started dating a woman at least ten years his junior. The people he normally dealt with knew him better than that, even hidden behind his human veil as he was.
“I am so sorry for them,” Alana exclaimed as soon as they had disappeared in the crowd, “but why didn’t you just answer them? You are much better than- than that!”
“Why defend myself against the judgment of people who buy into conspicuous consumption and who seemed keen on re-enacting what they have seen in popular media?” he rebutted her gently, “I know what I can do, what I am worth, and what I prefer. I feel no need to get into discussions with people who carry predefined assumptions.”
“Now, why don’t you introduce me to some people who can actually hold a conversation?” he asked her.
The rest of the night went in similar manner. Most people became drunk on the average quality wine and made fools out of themselves. Alana introduced him to some individuals who could, indeed, carry a decent intercourse and he spent a some somewhat enjoyable hour discussing the merit of Italian, feministic literature with two women while Alana stood sullen by his side.
It became clear to him in the course of the night that she had exulted about dating a wealthy, European count-turned-doctor. He felt disappointed at her indiscretion. He did not particularly care that these people knew about their dalliance, but he was piqued by her continued insistence that they were in a romantic relationship. He had informed her time and again that, while he enjoyed her company, he was not going to make it permanent.
They had had their nice moment, of course, but she was not the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. After some reflection he had realised that he would, indeed, like to get married sometime in the future. But it would have to be to someone who could fully see him as he was, someone who could challenge him, and someone who could keep up with him. The only one who fit the bill was Will. It helped that he was already completely enamoured with the younger man.
When they were finally alone, just moments before he was to leave for his own temporary residence as he absolutely refused to stay at the hotel connected to the conference centre when there was no kitchen and no refrigerator for the fruits of his business, he alerted her to the errors of her ways. He once again made it very clear that what they had was temporary and that, if she could not agree to the set boundaries, she had to inform him at that moment so they could go their own way, permanently.
Alana looked hurt at his words, but he kept his face impassive until she finally, reluctantly, agreed. He did not particularly care either way if he hurt the other doctor or not, but he was somewhat fond of her and did want to keep her around. She just needed to realise that he did mean what he had told her frequently. He so disliked having to repeat himself.
The affair had been going on for a handful of months now, and, in the light of her recent demands for more, her worth as an alibi was starting to diminish. Will had not referred to him or the Chesapeake Ripper since he had been released, and the dinners with Jack were stilted on all sides. The time to end their dalliance was rapidly approaching.
He did not kiss her in goodbye when they parted.
oOoOoOo
He gradually but carefully withdrew from Alana after that. He knew most affairs did not end on a high note, but he would make sure that whatever friendship they would retain afterwards would survive the backlash of the end of theirs without destroying either of their reputations or making her question his innocence. He would loathe to see his meticulous work of entertaining her for months in return for a nearly airtight alibi destroyed due to one overly emotional individual.
He stopped notifying her of all art related outings he would have informed her off before. At first, it was just one opening of a new art gallery or one first night of a new opera playing, which he excused to her as being outside her range of interest when it came to art. As she truly would not have cared for the showings, she had little choice but begrudgingly agree.
He also slowly started to cut her out of his broader social life.
He accidentally let her see some of the small, neatly wrapped gifts he planned on sending to Will. Items that were distinctly recognisable as wrapped books with supplemented letters were left on his desk where she might see them. Small packages with the logo from a well-known bespoke clothier for male costumes were placed in a drawer she knew he did not use for clothing or accessories while she was present. Recipes for dishes with ingredients she did not care for were placed in neat stacks on a unused corner of his counter. He never elaborated what the gifts were or who they were for when she asked.
He started cooking less sophisticated meals when she spent the night, or he left early in the morning for an emergency appointment with a client without leaving breakfast or coffee behind for when she woke up. He still kept to his own standards, he would never lower them, but he stopped considering her preferences over his own and he miraculously ran out of the beer she so adored.
He started introducing her to other individuals, both males and females, he believed might attract her amorous attention. When he noticed she got along with someone, he would leave them alone or cite an appointment he had to get ready for.
When she asked about it in an increasingly more desperate manner, he would just tell her he had been busy or that she was only imagining his increasingly distant conduct. It was gaslighting at its mildest. The trick was to make their separation come from her, make it seem as if it was her idea to end the affair.
After two months of gently retreating from her life, she finally broke.
“I- uh,” she started after they had finished a, for her, particular uneasy dinner, “I met someone.”
He made a inquiring sound as he gently swirled the sauce around the panna cotta he had made as dessert.
Alana remained silent, but he could almost taste her nerves.
“A new patient?” he gently coaxed her along after he finished his plating and handed one of the plates and a small dessert fork to her, “or a new colleague?”
“A date,” she finally blurted out, “she asked me for a date.”
“She?” he turned his full attention towards her. He was curious which of the women he had introduced her to had managed to captivate her. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth the way she had done when she had just been young and just his mentee, and she had been insecure about her own work.
He placed his own plate down and said teasingly, “am I such an insensitive lover that you have forsworn the male sex completely?”
“What-? No!” she immediately exclaimed with a mortified blush and she placed her uneaten dessert down as she instantly jumped to his defence as he knew she would, “No! You are a great lover and you are wonderful in bed! It’s just…”
She trailed of again.
“I have told you multiple times, sometimes not as patiently as I could have, but what we have is nothing more than a brief dalliance,” he told her gently, “if you made the acquaintance of someone who caught your fancy than I implore you to follow your heart.”
Alana looked both relieved and thankful at his words.
“Now, let us have dessert and you can tell me about the siren whose song managed to entice you,” he told her as he picked up his own plate and started to leave the kitchen.
Alana followed his example, and together they made their way towards the dining room.
“It’s Margot, Margot Verger,” she told him between bites, “we started talking during your soiree nearly three months ago…”
He only paid enough attention to her discourse to ask leading questions as he internally savoured his accomplishment. He could finally devote all of his time to gain his own happily ever after.
It was time to go after Will.