"I want chicken nuggets!"
Abigail Hobbs had been living with Dr Hannibal Lecter for the last several weeks. It had started when she would climb the walls of the facility where she lived. She would show up at his office or his house, wherever he was. He would cook for her or they would just sit and talk. He always seemed to know exactly what to do to make her feel better.
The doctors finally released Abigail into his care. Since then she had been like a pet to him. He dressed her in the finest clothes, took her out to the theatre, and cooked her elaborate meals. She seemed to lavish in the attention and affection he doted upon her. She always wore whatever clothes he picked out and ate whatever he cooked...until today.
"I want chicken nuggets," she repeated.
"Abigail don't be ridiculous," Hannibal said, cutting his meat. "Eat your Kig ha farz."
"No," she said, pushing her plate away. "I don't want it, it looks like throw up. I want chicken nuggets."
"Please, Abigail, you're being childish," Hannibal said, starting to get somewhat annoyed.
"I'm not a child," she said, her blue eyes flashing dangerously. It was then that he remembered that this was no ordinary girl. She was a killer.
"I'm nineteen years old," she continued. "I should be able to go to McDonalds if I want to."
"McDonalds," Hannibal said scornfully.
"What's wrong with McDonalds?"
"Fast food, Abigail? You should know better."
"I want chicken nuggets," she said firmly. "And fries. And a coke. I'm tired of wine, it tastes like piss."
She pushed her wine glass away and crossed her arms. Hannibal let out an annoyed sigh. He didn't know what was causing his girl to act this way but he didn't like it. Especially since he had bottled this wine himself a number of years ago and it certainly did not taste like piss.
"Either eat what is on your plate or go to your room," he said sternly.
"Fine," she snapped, pushing back from the table. She stomped upstairs to her room and slammed the door, making Hannibal flinch. He sighed again and picked up Abigail's wine glass. He quickly drained what was left of it, wondering what on earth had made him think he could handle a teenage girl.
Later that night, Hannibal got ready for bed. He was almost asleep when there was a soft knock on his door. He lifted his head.
"Come in," he said.
The door opened slowly and Abigail slipped inside. In the dim light he could see tears sliding down her face.
"I'm sorry," she said, coming to stand beside his bed.
"No, I am sorry," he said automatically. "I forget sometimes that you are still young."
"Can I come in?" she asked.
He pulled the covers back and Abigail crawled in next to him. She curled up beside him and put her head on his chest. It was not uncommon for her to come crawling into his bed in the middle of the night, usually after she'd had a bad dream.
Hannibal wiped her tears away with his thumb gently then kissed her forehead.
"My dad used to take me through the drive thru sometimes on our way to the forest," she said after a while. "He'd always get me a Happy Meal, even when I had outgrown them."
"Ah," he said quietly.
"But you're right," she continued. "I'm not a child anymore and my dad is dead. I don't need a Happy Meal."
Hannibal said nothing but kissed her forehead again. Soon she was sleeping peacefully beside him.
The next night when Abigail sat down to dinner, Hannibal set a covered dish in front of her.
"Close your eyes," he said and she obeyed. He lifted the lid and told her to open her eyes.
"Chicken nuggets!" she exclaimed happily.
They weren't the ground chicken parts formed into round shapes that one usually found at fast food restaurants. These Hannibal had cooked himself.
"I even made honey mustard sauce," he said, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Just for you, princess."
"Thank you Hannibal," she said, picking up a nugget and dunking it in the sauce. She popped it into her mouth.
"Mmm!" she said. "Good."
"I am glad you approve," he said, sitting down to his own meal of Coq au vin. "I'm sorry I could not bring myself to get your Cola."
"It's okay, Hannibal, I really do love wine," she said, sipping the red wine he had provided.
They continued eating in silence until Hannibal noticed Abigail frowning slightly.
"Hannibal?" she asked. "Are these real chicken nuggets or are they... people nuggets?"
Hannibal laughed heartily.
"Eat your dinner, princess," he said with a smile.
