I knocked on the large, black wooden for that stood before me. A few seconds later, a man with striking facial features answered the knocks.
"Ah, Ariana. How wonderful to see you." He took me into a tight embrace.
"Oh Hannibal, its been too long. " I purred in his ear. I felt his mouth turn up in a slight smile as he escorted me into his large home.
"How have you been my friend?" He took my coat after i had taken it off.
"I've been well. And you? Stayed out of trouble?" I looked in his sparkling eyes. He smiled down at me.
"I'd like to think i have. I do have a bloodhound on my trail thought," he hung my coat up on his coat rack that resided by the door, " And that is partially why i asked you to see me." I cocked my eyebrow and took a seat on his large loveseat.
"A bloodhound? What do you mean, Hannibal?" I nodded when he raised the bottle of Jack Daniels that he had sitting on his coffee table, offering me a glass of it.
"His name is Will Graham." He turned and handed the tumbler of whiskey to me, and took his place next to me.
"You mean that profiler thats works with the FBI? Why would he be after you?" I sipped my drink. He followed suit, and then sat it on the coffee table.
"I was asked to be his psychiatrist about 7 months ago, and now he's hell-bent on killing m."I gasped in horror.
"He knows?" I sat my drink down next to his. I heard him sigh quietly.
"He does. But, of course, nobody actually believes him, except Dr. Gideon." He stood and offered his hand to me, "Care to help me prepare for the dinner party? "
"I didn't know you were having one!" I took his hand and stood up, "It would be an honor to help you cook." He took my arm and tucked it under his, escorting me to his large kitchen.
"And what are you making tonight Hannibal?" I leaned up against the counter.
"An assortment of different h'orderves, including Foie Gras Au Torchon and Langue d'Agneau en Papillote with a Duxelle of Oyster Mushrooms." He looked up at me and smiled ever so slightly. I raised my eyebrow.
"And i'm assuming that they're not made from what you say they are." I watched him retrieve the ingredients from his large steel fridge. He placed the meats on the cutting board and looked up at me.
"Are they ever?" He pulled out a large chefs knife and sharpened it. "Although, I'm still in need of the liver required by the foie gras."
"Do you need me to make a run?" I walked to his side, and looked up at him, waiting for his answer. He looked down at me.
"If you want to. Just get me a fatty one, it's necessary to make a successful foie gras." He kissed the top of my forehead and handed me the keys to his car.
"Of course." I grabbed my coat from the coat rack by the door, and closed the door behind me.