Will's eyes snapped open. He sat up, chest heaving, beads of sweat dripping down his face. His shirt was soaked. He glanced over at the clock. 6:30 AM. It was late enough to get up, right? Sighing, he threw back the sheets and swung his legs over the side of the bed. As soon as his feet hit the floor he stood up and walked to the bathroom. There, he washed his face, trying to clear his muddled thoughts. He ran a wet hand through his already-soaked, sweaty hair and grabbed a towel to dry his face.
Back in his room he pulled off his damp shirt and tossed it into his laundry hamper, yanking on a new one and a pair of jeans. He threaded a belt through the loops around his waist and put on his glasses before snatching his coat as he made his way towards the door. All of the dogs were awake, and they watched him as he moved around the house. They all jumped up and ran to him when he opened the door, and he watched them trotting and loping out into the yard, which was dimly lit by the rising sun.
He spent the next half hour standing there and watching the dogs. At seven o'clock he went back inside and ate cold cereal for breakfast. By the time he'd thrown the sheets on his bed back over the mattress so that they looked acceptable, it was seven thirty. Jack had pulled him from teaching until they caught their latest killer, so he didn't have any plans for the day. The lack of plans and motivation was both wonderful and terrible; with nothing to do, he could relax, but relaxing meant that he would be doing a lot of thinking, and if he thought too much bad things could happen. He did have another appointment with Dr. Lecter that evening, but that wasn't for twelve more hours.
It was eight thirty and Will was sitting on the couch reading the newspaper when his phone rang. He stared at it for several seconds before he set his paper aside and stood up to answer the call. He expected it to be Jack, calling him in because there had been another murder, but it wasn't. Instead, a familiar female voice greeted him.
"Will?"
"Uh, yeah?"
"Hi. It's . . . um, it's Veronica."
He blinked in surprised. "Oh." Then he frowned and rubbed his eyes. "How did you get my number?"
He could almost hear the smile in her voice when she said, "Uh, I never got it from you yesterday, so I called Jack and he gave it to me . . . I hope that's alright."
"No, that's fine," Will said after a moment.
"Anyways," Veronica went on, "Believe it or not, I wasn't just calling to say hello."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. I guess I should start by asking: are you busy today?"
Will didn't have to think it through. "Not unless Jack calls me in."
"Okay, great! Sorry to bother you so early in the morning. Do you feel like driving? Because if not, then I can worry about this later, I guess . . ." She trailed off.
But Will wasn't bothered at all by her call. He'd never been so happy to hear anyone's voice on the phone, and he didn't bother telling her that he'd already been up for two hours. "Um, no that's fine. I can drive."
"Okay, great. I need your help with something. You said you live outside of Quantico; the drive shouldn't take long to get here."
"Where are you?" he asked.
She gave him an address and he wrote it down, slipping the piece of paper into his pocket along with his keys.
"I'll see you in a little while, then?" Veronica asked.
"Yeah."
"Okay. Um, bye Will."
"Bye."
Will called the dogs and they came back inside, and he closed and locked his door behind him. He slid into the driver's seat and started the car, putting on his seat belt and letting the engine warm up a bit before he left his driveway. To pass the time while he waited for the engine, he flipped through the stations on his stereo and felt an involuntary smile forming itself on his lips when he found Veronica's station. Then he pulled out of his driveway and down the road, leaving his house behind yet again. But he wasn't at all upset or annoyed at having to leave. In fact, he was happy to be going. He might not know much about Veronica, but so far she had been nothing but kind and friendly and utterly approachable, and if she wanted his help then he would do whatever she needed him to.
He found the address Veronica had given him and parked on the curb outside of an apartment complex. Veronica was sitting on a bench in front of the building, and she smiled when Will left his car and walked up.
"Good morning," she said.
"Morning," he nodded in return. "So . . . how can I help?"
Her smile widened. "There's someone I need you to meet. Then we'll figure out if you can help or not."
Will was a bit confused by this, but he followed her willingly into the complex and up a flight of stairs. They stopped outside of an apartment and Will was just beginning to wonder who he was meeting and who lived there when Veronica pulled out her own key ring to unlock the door. "Your apartment?" he asked.
She nodded and opened the door, stepping inside and closing the door behind Will after he'd entered.
"Wow," he said. They had stepped into a small living room, and from what he could see, Veronica's apartment was clean and tidy a bright. She had pictures of family and friends on the walls, and he wanted to walk over and look at them all. But he turned his attention back to Veronica when she started to move. He followed her down a hallway and through a door and found himself standing in her kitchen. The first thing he noticed was a dog with reddish-brown fur lying on a rug in front of the oven. The dog looked up and wagged its tail when they entered the room, and he stood up and trotted over to them to be petted.
"Who's this?" Will asked as he scratched the dog behind the ears.
"I don't know," Veronica said. "This is who I wanted you to meet, and he's what I need your help with. I'd love to keep him but there's a really strict no-pets-allowed rule here, and with Jack calling me back onto the field I won't be home enough to take him for walks or feed him on time, and he wouldn't stay very quiet. I've talked to the manager, and he said I could keep this guy here for today until I could find someone to take him. I found him last night on my way home. He was running around the neighborhood without a collar or anything and I caught him and called every family I knew that had a dog, but none of theirs are missing. I've checked for missing dog articles all over the place online and in the papers and I can't find any, so I eventually brought him here and decided to call you. I even took him to the vet, but they said he didn't have a chip."
Will nodded and smiled down at the dog, who was looking up at him with adoring eyes, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.
"Do you have room in your house for another family member?" Veronica asked, looking as if she was afraid to get her hopes up. "I mean, I know you already have seven, and that's a lot, so if you can't take him, I understand . . ."
"No, I think we could make room for him," Will said.
She smiled, but it faltered when he added, "On one condition."
She took a deep breath. "And what's that?"
Will had been looking at the dog, but now he looked up at her. "You have to give him a name."
She frowned. "You're the one who's taking him home!" But her complaints were only halfhearted.
"You give him a name, I give him a home," Will said.
"Fine," Veronica said, though a smile was tugging at her lips. "He looks like a Rusty."
Will smiled and looked down at the dog. "Rusty it is," he said.
Veronica smiled and said, "Of course you realize that even though I'm giving him to you, I'll have to come visit him to make sure he's doing well?"
"Of course," Will agreed.
They fell silent and stood there for a while, Veronica leaning against the wall and staring at the wall in thought and Will stroking Rusty's head. After a few minutes the quiet started to lean away from comfortable and drifted more into an awkward silence, broken only by Rusty's panting and the quiet sound his wagging tall made when it came in contact with the linoleum flooring.
Will glanced up at Veronica when she seemed to suddenly come back from her thoughts and said loudly, "Oh my god! I'm sorry; have you eaten this morning yet? If I took you before breakfast then I could make you something. Or, would you like something to drink? There's tea, coffee, hot chocolate, juice . . .?"
Will smiled. "I already ate. But thank you. Uh, some tea would be nice, though."
She had looked very concerned that she'd caused him to miss breakfast, but her face brightened and she smiled when he asked for tea. "Of course," she said, walking across the kitchen and opening a cupboard.
While her back was turned, Will had a moment to look around the kitchen and then focus on what Veronica was wearing. He never paid any attention to what anyone was wearing except for himself, but he was actually curious when it came to Veronica for some reason. The day before she'd worn her hair down and had been dressed in jeans, a nice shirt, her red scarf, and what Will assumed had been fashionable slipper-things. He thought they were called flats, but wasn't quite sure. Today Veronica seemed a lot more laid back, though, as if she'd planned on spending the day at home; she was wearing a pair of faded jeans with holes in the knees, a simple t-shirt, and tattered-looking sneakers. But it was her hair that he found his eyes most drawn to. She'd pulled it back in a messy bun, and some of the shorter bits had slipped out and hung down to frame her face. And there was something about her plain, comfortable look that made Will like her even more than he had the previous day.
Will was lost in thought, but he took a deep breath to clear his mind and come back to reality when Veronica turned around with a mug in each hand. He followed her to the table and they sat down across from each other, just as they'd been the day before.
"I didn't take you to be a tea kind of guy," she said once they'd taken their seats.
He smirked. "Really?"
She shrugged. "Most men aren't really into tea. Most American men, anyways. Go to England and it's an entirely different story."
He smiled. "You've been to England?"
She nodded. "Once. And only for a week. It was nice, and very beautiful, but the weather there is very different than what I'm used to."
"Where exactly did you go?" Will asked.
"London. Typical, I know. I actually had a friend who got married there, and our families had always been so close; we couldn't turn down the invitation."
"How long ago was the wedding?"
"Four years."
Will nodded. He didn't think he'd be overstepping any bounds by making a joke, so he asked, "But you didn't fall in love with any Brits and their charming accents? Why not?"
She laughed. "No. There was actually one who was a year younger than me and a bit too interested for his own good. He was some distant relative of the groom, so naturally I had to deal with his following me around all week long. I've always thought it would be just lovely to live in London, you know? And then I went on that trip and was followed around and bothered all week by a guy who couldn't take a hint. I think it kind of turned me off to the whole living-in-London thing."
Will grinned. "That seems understandable."
They were quiet for a moment, and then he changed the subject. "Do you have any siblings?" he asked.
She nodded. "Four younger brothers," she said.
"Wow," he said. "That must have been . . . fun. What're their names?"
She took a sip of tea before she answered him. "Tye, Daniel, Zachary and Josh. Tye's the baby of the family, and there's a ten year age gap between us, so he still lives with my parents."
"He's in high school?" Will asked.
She nodded. Then she asked, "What about you?"
Will shook his head. "I was an only child."
"Oh. That's too bad. But I guess there are some pluses to being the only one, right?"
Will nodded. "Sure. I'm sure you had lots of fun with your brothers, but they all have to get annoying sometimes."
Veronica nodded. "Yes, they definitely do. I was lucky to be the only girl; it meant I had my own room. The boys all shared one giant bedroom with two bunk beds."
"That must have been nice," was all Will said. "Where did you grow up? Do your parents still live there?"
She nodded again. "Yeah, believe it or not, I'm a country girl. I grew up just outside a small town in Montana. My parents had—and still have—a cattle ranch."
"So you're a cowgirl?" Will asked.
She lifted up her hands. "Born and raised."
Will smiled. "Nice. Then you rode horses and branded and did all the cowboy stuff?"
"Yep. We were the real deal."
Will took a sip of his tea. "That's pretty cool."
They talked for a while more. It was easy for Will to get lost what they talked about, no matter what turns the conversation took or what they talked about. They talked about where they'd grown up, what life had been life with siblings versus without them, all of the different places they'd ever lived, which places they liked best, their places they'd always dreamed—and still did dream—of living in. They shared worst first-date stories, though Veronica had Will beat there. They talked about their first jobs and what their dreams and aspirations had been when they'd graduated high school and how much those had changed over the years.
At one point during the conversation, Will let his gaze drift over the room around him. His eyes were drawn to the clock on the wall, and he started in surprise. "Noon?" he said out loud.
Veronica stopped talking and glanced at him, turning around to look at the clock. "Whoa," she said. "I hope you didn't have anything to do? I'm so sorry for taking so much of your ti-"
"No," he said before she could finish apologizing. "I didn't have any plans for the day. I was just surprised to see that it's . . ." he trailed off. "I guess time really does fly when you're having fun."
"No kidding," Veronica said, a smile parting her lips as she stood up and took the two mugs off of the table. She walked to the sink and took only a moment to wash them and set them upside-down on a rack to dry. She turned around when she had finished and leaned back against the counter. "Well," she said after a minute or two of silence had passed, "Do you need to be going or would you like some lunch?"
"Oh, you already made me tea and listened to my rambling . . ." Will started to say.
"Oh, yeah," Veronica interrupted sarcastically, "You already took several hours of my time and some of my tea; how dare you impose by asking for a sandwich and some chips!"
"But I really don't want to make you-" Will tried again, but she didn't let him finish.
"No! No. If you don't have anywhere to be, then please let me make you some lunch."
She looked so eager, and her eyes were so pleading, Will admitted to himself that he may have gotten just a little lost in those dark brown orbs of hers. "Fine," he said after a moment, but his voice was thick with defeat and the stubbornness was gone from his expression.
Veronica noticed the look on his face. His eyes seemed to be asking for her forgiveness for his being so adamant, and she frowned at him. He looked worried and afraid that he'd offended her when she frowned, so she said exactly what she was thinking: "Will, you don't need to apologize for not wanting to impose. It was . . . sweet."
And then she was swinging out of her seat and onto her feet. She'd returned to the table, but now she turned her back on Will again and made a hasty retreat to the far side of the kitchen and the fridge. She may have hurried just a bit and hidden behind the refrigerator door because she was blushing and afraid of what he thought of her last few words.
" . . . Thanks . . ." he said quietly as she was walking away.
She took an extra few seconds to grab the lunch meat, lettuce, tomatoes, cheese, and mayonnaise, but eventually she had to straighten and close the fridge door. She turned to face him, thankful that the heat had faded from her cheeks. "Oh it's no problem," she answered, "It's just a sandwich-"
"That's not what I was talking about," he said.
She had been heading for the counter, but when he spoke she stopped and turned to look at him. "Oh," she heard herself say.
Will watched Veronica's cheeks flush pink and the tips of her ears redden. He had to fight the smile that wanted to form on his lips when she blushed; she was rather cute when she was flustered. He had felt a strange twinge of pleasure and happiness when she called his behavior "cute" and he smirked as she clutched the sandwich-fixings to her chest, nearly dropping them on her way to the counter. She pulled a loaf of bread from the cupboard near her head and took out four slices before she put the loaf back into its bag and closed the cupboard door. She produced two plates from somewhere and set the slices of bread on them. Then she found a butter knife and opened the jar of mayonnaise.
"Mayonnaise?" she asked without looking at him.
"Yes, please."
He watched her smear it on all four pieces of bread. Then, without turning to him, she asked, "Cheese?"
"Can I just ask for everything now instead of you having to list it all?" he asked.
He saw the way the corner of her mouth twisted up into a half-smile. "Of course," she said.
Moments later the sandwiches were ready and she walked over to the table, setting a plate in front of him and then one in her own place. Then she turned and put everything back in the fridge. She opened the door to her small pantry and asked, "Barbeque or sour cream and onion?"
"This is fine," he said, "I don't need chips . . ."
"Well, that's too bad," she said, returning to the table with both bags of chips. "Because whether you need them or not, you're eating some." After a moment she said, "There's plain potato chips too, if you want those instead."
He sighed and gave in. "No, no," he said, "Barbeque is fine."
"Wonderful," she said, opening the bag of Barbeque chips and leaving her seat to return the sour cream and onion bag to the pantry. She was back in her place across from him a moment later. He hadn't touched the chips and had been waiting to eat until she sat down, and she frowned at him. "I didn't think I'd ever say this," she said after a moment of staring at him, "but I think I've finally found a man who is too polite."
Will gave a small smile. "I'm sorry."
"Gah! Look at you! Now you're apologizing for being too polite!"
"I'm sor-" he started to say, but she cut him off before he could finish apologizing for apologizing for being too polite.
She reached into the bag of chips and grabbed a handful, dropping them in a pile on Will's plate. "Just . . . eat some chips and stop being so polite and apologetic," she ordered. Her voice was stern, but Will didn't miss the smile that she tried to hold back.
But he wanted to please her, so he did start eating. But she'd only just joined him and swallowed her first bite when she said, "Oh!" and jumped up from her seat. She was in front of the fridge with the door open in a flash. "What do you want to drink?" she asked. "I've got water, iced tea, milk, five flavors of soda, and beer. But I could make you coffee or more hot tea if you like."
He swallowed the bite of food he'd just put in his mouth and said, "So many options . . . I guess I'll go with soda. What are my options there?"
She flashed a smile before turning back to look in the fridge. "We've got Orange, Strawberry, Cream, Pepsi and Sprite."
"Sprite," he said without hesitation.
"Great," she said, and she wasn't being sarcastic. She walked back to the table and set down, setting his Sprite in front of him and a strawberry soda in front of herself.
They had only just finished eating and were quietly sipping their sodas when she said suddenly, "Names of all the dogs who live with you now, including Rusty. Go."
Will took a deep breath. "This is gonna take a minute," he said. The breath caught in his throat when Veronica smiled and brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She leaned forward, anticipation clear in her expression.
First, I would like to say thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far, especially on my last chapter. All the encouraging things you said were so very uplifting and made me so excited about continuing this story! Your reviews always make my day. So, would you mind letting me know how you liked this one? Thanks.
I know some of you wanted more Hannibal in this chapter. And to be honest, I'd planned on fitting him into this one. But he'll just have to make an appearance in chapter 5. I hope you can forgive me for his absence for the moment, but I promise he'll be back soon enough. And we just might get a peek into that strange, frightening, magnificent brain of his to see what he thinks of Veronica. Who knows, they might even cross paths and meet each other somehow . . . maybe.
Anyways, thank you all so much again. You are all so very important to me! ~Taelr
