Hannibal had spent about an hour thoroughly engrossed in writing his psychiatric thesis when his thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice coming from the hallway. He paused, holding his fountain pen above the paper briefly, eyes softening, before continuing, the corners of his lips still curved into a slight smile. The female voice drifted in, singing a melody and getting increasingly loud until he began to hear the accompanying footsteps, which stopped abruptly at the doorway.

'H, you're not still writing that awful thing, are you?' Hannibal knew without turning around that the female possessing the voice would be leaning against the doorway, facial expression a mix of disbelief and worry, and so continued to write without lifting his head. 'I had a cancellation,' he spoke as the pen moved across the page, 'I thought it might be a good time to catch up.'

'Do you ever relax?' footsteps moved from across the entrance to behind his chair, and Hannibal felt her hair fall onto his shoulders as she leaned over to skim his work.

'I am relaxing whenever I am with you.' He placed the pen down and turned to face his better half. 'Darling, are you so bored you have to check up on me?' She returned his smile with her own dazzling wide one and he rewarded her with a chaste kiss before gesturing for her to take the chair opposite his desk, which she did almost immediately, tucking her legs up on the leather seat until a warning 'Anna…' made her drop them to the floor.

'I've been thinking about hosting a party' she began almost immediately, speaking with such innocent enthusiasm that the Doctor leaned forward in his chair, smiling. He had always found her naïve excitement intoxicating, particularly when she had no idea how to follow her plans through. 'You want to host a party?' He repeated to her. 'For what occasion?'

'Why does there have to be an occasion? I want to dance, I want to dress up! This house is so beautiful and it would be so amazing-'

'You have been living in my house for 3 months and you want to host a party' Hannibal stated, with a look of such amusement it warranted an abrupt frown from Anna 'don't look at me so, there is nothing more I would like to see than you in a dress-'

'A floor-length dress-'

'A floor-length dress enjoying yourself, however I do not believe it's appropriate given the current situation,' he gestured to the scars on his arms. His partner mused on this point for a moment, twirling a few strands of her hair around her fingers, before getting up, leaning across the table, propped up by her elbows and quietly adding 'A floor-length dress with no underwear.' Hannibal laughed. 'Are you blackmailing me, Miss Smith?'

'Not at all,' she replied evenly, cupping her face with her hands and smiling serenely at him, 'I am simply providing motivation. Plus,' she leaned closer, 'you don't really care about those scars. Don't try to guilt trip me, I know you too well.'

With that, Hannibal exhaled with defeat and looked down at the love of his life watching him expectantly. 'When do you want it?' he sighed, gently moving a strand of hair from her face and kissing her forehead.