Empty Gaze Chapter 1: Jasmine, a hannibal fanfic

I am not an English native and I apologise for any mistakes! I welcome any dvise and comments!

Chapter One: Jasmine

Jack Crawford was at his wits' end. He needed to catch that killer and to do that, he needed Will Graham. To get him, he needed to find someone that could monitor him and do some damage control. Alana had refused, of course. She might have been one of the cleverest and kindest psychiatrist he knew, but she was incredibly frustrating and she did not make Jack's life easier at the moment.

Thus, here he was, waiting in the outer room after his incredibly embarrassing mishaps of mixing the Doctor and his client.

Of course, he had read about Doctor Hannibal Lecter's prowess in pretty much everything he set his mind to do, be it arts, the human body or the human mind. It had made the man a well-known figure in the psychiatrist world and Bloom held him in high regards but pictures of the Doctor were surprisingly hard to come by. He also guessed from the very rich interior of the waiting room and the prices of the neighbourhood that Doctor Lecter wasn't poor. If he remembered well, he came from an old aristocrat family from Europe, which would explain the accent he had perceived in the earlier talk. Remembering his mistake, Jack groaned and burrowed deeper in the overly-comfortable chair. He hid his face behind his hands, trying to cut the world from him. The headache that he had successfully stove off was reappearing. He felt on edge and nervous, and if he didn't have more self-control over his body, he would let his leg bounce up and down.

Suddenly the door from the outside opened and a girl of around 16-17 entered, taking her earphones out and twisting them in her pocket. She wore a brown leather jacket, a bright red scarf and a black pleated skirt with big black boots with brown straps. She raised her head from her phone and looked at him, raising an eyebrow. She had pale blond hair that shone grey to the light, kept short and curling slightly, framing a strong jaw, an upturned nose and her doe eyes. They were a striking onyx colour, but when the light hit them you could barely discern a dark shade of blue. He straightened his spine, raising in the chair, feeling like he was in front of his superior. He was going to initiate a conversation or repeat what the Doctor had said but shut his mouth when she proceeded in ignoring him, going back to her phone. She strolled by him, the smell of jasmine trailing behind her. She was about to open the offices' door when he called out to her.

"Excuse-me, you have to wait, the Doctor said he needed a break after his last patient. You can wait with-"

He stopped talking when she ignored him, barely turning her head to acknowledge him, and opened the door, calling out "Papa, I'm here. Can I borrow some books again?"

Jack froze. Lecter's life was very mysterious. He might live in the high society but he had successfully kept his personal life just what it was: personal. But even with that, Jack could have never guessed that. He might not be bilingual in French like Will, but he knew enough to know what 'Papa' meant.

Since when did Doctor Lecter had a daughter?!

Inside the office

Hannibal looked up from his notes, already nodding to his adopted daughter.

"Of course you can Evelyne. Est-ce que Crawford est toujours là ?"

"Si tu parles de l'homme dans la salle d'attente, oui il est toujours là. C'est qui? Do you need me to leave or get ready?"

Lecter let his eyes lazily follow the girl, as she removed her jacket and bag, putting them next to the ladder.

"Il s'agit de Jack Crawford, I told you about him I think, the director of the Behavioural Unit in the FBI. And yes please, do get ready, just in case. But stay in sight, il doit croire que tu n'es pas une menace."

She did not reply, just nodding as she got up to the balcony and going straight to where her silence gun was. She also took one of the book, humming softly as she prepared herself, hiding the gun in her left hand and holding the book up so it would hide the weapon from his point of view. He allowed himself a smile and the usual surge of pride he always felt when his girl was being incredibly clever.

Hannibal took a few minutes to finish his notes, and put on his polite mask.

"Oh and please, try not to shoot me, Eve."

"Can't promise anything."

He got up and went to open the door throwing an unimpressed glare over his shoulder. When he opened the door, Jack immediately got up, taking his hand with strength on both sides. Lecter invited Jack in, positioning himself behind.

Crawford immediately turned around, taking in the very rich décor, to finally focus on Evelyne who was still flipping through the pages, looking busy. He turned around to talk to the doctor but kept the girl in his peripheral view.

"I was not aware you had a daughter, Doctor."

"I became Evelyne's legal guardian when her mother died a long time ago, murdered in a gruesome way."

"My condolences."

Hannibal almost let his pity mask fall into a smirk when he heard Eve's sharp intake of breath though he quickly lost it when he heard the security of the gun softly click, a sound lost in turning pages, discreet enough that Jack wouldn't hear it but Hannibal would. The warning had been received and he thanked the other man, changing the subject, regretting throwing that barb at her.

"So, may I ask how this is all about me?"

"You can ask, but I may have to ask you a few questions first. Is your daughter staying?"

"Yes, if it is okay with you. She is working on an essay on the origins of fiction in French literature."

"Impressive. No secretary?"

"Was pre-dispositioned to romantic whims. Followed her heart to the United Kingdom, sad to see her go. She used to be good friends with Evelyne."

Jack chuckled as the girl hummed her agreement. He went to the drawings, turning his back to the both of them, and Hannibal went to get his scalpel as Evelyne turned around, facing them, her book tilted enough for the muzzle of the gun to be unhindered.

"Wow. Are these yours Doctor?"

"Among others. My daughter did some as well. This one is my boarding school in Paris when I was a boy, where I met Evelyne's mother."

"The amount of detail is incredible."

"I learned very early a scalpel cuts better points than a pencil sharpener."

He heard the girl chuckle very softly. Hannibal had taken the habit to make her laugh with his cannibalistic jokes when he had rubbed Eve the wrong way. It always worked and eased their relationship. They liked to test each other's limits, pushing and pulling and then went back to their middle ground.

"Well, now I understand why your drawings earned you an intern-ship at John Hopkins."

"I'm beginning to suspect you're investigating me, Agent Crawford."

Hannibal straightened and lost all traces of humour as he fiddled with the scalpel. He knew his daughter was also tensing, crouching down to have a better vantage point on the FBI agent.

Jack chuckled.

"No, no. No, you were referred to me by Alana Bloom in the psychology department Georgetown."

Hannibal relaxed slightly, and he glanced at the girl, nodding to her. She got up and hid the gun again, keeping it just in case.

"Most psychology departments are filled with personality deficient. Dr. Bloom would be the exception."

"Yes, she would, yes she would. Well, she told me that you mentored her during her residency at Johns Hopkins. Though she did not tell me you had an adopted girl."

"I learned as much from her as she did from me. For some reason, she decided to keep my family-life a secret, which I appreciate grandly; I do not want anyone pestering my daughter."

"I understand, yes. She also showed me, uh, your paper. 'Evolutionary'.. uh 'Evo-"

Evelyne interrupted him, speaking for the first time, that French lilt giving her an accent. Despite the years spent travelling, she always kept a trace of her accent, though it was only when she was really distressed that it would become a really thick discernible French accent.

"Evolutionary Origins of Social Exclusion."

Jack looked up, and nodded, smiling.

"Yes, thank you. Very interesting. Very interesting. Even for a layman."

Hannibal raised an eyebrow, sceptical.

"A layman?"

"Yeah."

Evelyne scoffed, putting the book down on the shelf with the gun, still hidden from the Agent's sight. Hannibal put down the scalpel as well and turned to look at the man.

"So many learned fellows going about in the halls of Behavioural Science -at the FBI, and you consider yourself a layman."

"I do when I'm in your company, doctor. Um, I need you to help me with a psychological profile."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, but I'm not sure it is a conversation fit for your daughter."

The girl scoffed again, her eyebrows scrunching in distaste, looking distinctly like an unhappy teenager. She took the book up again, leaving the gun on the shelf. She got down the ladder and jumped down the last few steps, landing gracefully. Hannibal and Jack both shared an amused look at the teen clear anger at being dismissed. She put on her coat keeping the book in her hand and bent down to get her bag.

"Don't take too long, I'll be in the car. N'oublie pas tes partitions pour ce soir, j'en aurais besoin."

With that order, she left, closing the door behind her.

Hannibal knew that Jack looked amused even before turning around.

"I am sorry about her, she tends to not like being left in the dark."

"That's teenagers for you. How old is she?"

"She turned nineteen last May. Her IQ is higher than normal which makes it tough for her to socialise properly. She is currently studying multiple courses in University on-line, but is still looking for her path."

Even the doctor could hear the pride that seeped in those words. He truly felt lucky to have found a mind as twisted and as sharp as his in her. He wasn't sure he'd let her live when he accepted her mother's request of taking her in, but when he found her later, bathed in the blood of her assailant at just 8 year old, he knew he could shape her and create something special that would calm that ache of loneliness he felt sometimes.

"You sound proud of her. She sounds like a clever and great kid."

"She is, and I am. So what was that case?"

Notes and Translations:

Est-ce que Crawford est toujours là ?"- Is Crawford still there ?

"Si tu parles de l'homme dans la salle d'attente, oui il est toujours là. C'est qui? - If you're talking about the man in the waiting room, yes, he is there. Who's he?