Someone was staring at them. Will could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Not reacting to it, he resolutely kept face forward, the opera singer being a very compelling focal point in her gold dress and striking red splashed background. As much as he would like to rubberneck the room to find out who was staring holes into the back of his head, Will didn't want to disturb Hannibal. He was quite involved with the performance, and Will didn't want to distract him unnecessarily from it.

Opera, Will decided, was nice enough in small doses. He could practically feel a physical impact from it that reviled the emotional, the deep dive into the wealth of sensory emergence there. In Will's humble opinion, it had nothing on nature's song of water rippling over rock and a breeze whistling through fields that intertwined so effortlessly with the ambient silence of the world.

His daddy had once said that there were such things as human enchantments, magic that we as a people make for ourselves because we can, because that is what we do. Humans delight in it. Singing was one of those spells, crafting another, but the ultimate, at least according to Graham senior, was cooking. Will quietly reflected on this as he made himself relax, and focus on the beautiful woman singing with all her heart, soul, and talent for her enraptured audience.

There would be time to look for this pain in the ass later. Will wasn't too worried about it. He was armed, and his date, of a sorts, was immensely dangerous.

Hannibal was the first one on his feet to give a standing ovation, the room following his lead. Will refrained from looking behind them. At this point, the interloper would just have to make themselves known to them. If his companion wasn't one of the most prolific serial killers at large, Will might have dismissed the sensation of nerves brought upon him by general social anxiety. He was not looking forward to the after party.

Hannibal was planning on showing him off. Will was planning on coming off as politely dull and unenthusiastic as possible. Neither one got what they wanted, both plans ruined by the same person, though Will wasn't too disappointed. He lit up with he recognized Franklin from across the room, the man beelining to Hannibal with a friend in tow. A quick glance at Hannibal confirmed that he had noticed the intrusion as well, and he was doing his utmost best to ignore it as Hannibal held court. Will wasn't about to let him off so easily. He kept an eye on Franklin and his company as the stout man bobbed and weaved through the crowd of hopefuls and other social onlookers.

"It's been too long since you properly cooked for us, Hannibal." Said Mrs. Komeda. She was beginning to work her way into Will's good favor. Usually, someone using imperial pronouns as if they were royalty would set his teeth on edge, but someone using it on Hannibal was simply delightful.

"Come over and I'll cook for you."

"I said properly, which means dinner and the show. Have you seen him cook? It's an entire performance." Mrs. Komeda expanded, not about to let it go. "He used to throw such exquisite dinner parties." She finished in a longing lingering manner, all while staring Hannibal down who was definitely amused, that much Will could tell. Mrs. Komeda was intellectual and sassy, and Hannibal had a fondness for her. "You heard me. Used to."

"And I will again," Hannibal tried to beg off, "After inspiration strikes."

Will downed his champagne, trading out for a new glass of it from a passing server. It wasn't whisky, but it wasn't garbage champagne either so he made do. After all, he had to stay sharp to catch a potential threat in the room.

That answer earned Hannibal a dirty unimpressed look from Mrs. Komeda so he was forced to respond further. "I cannot force a feast. A feast must present itself."

It was fascinating to watch Hannibal interact with "normal" people, the edges of his person suit depicting the charming foreign doctor welded together. Its presence didn't detour Will from snorting into his champagne.

"It's a dinner party, not a unicorn." Mrs. Komeda snarked, "Your dear Will seems to agree with me."

"Your dear Will" was apparently his title here now. He hadn't been particularly forthcoming about what he actually did for a living, and no one had pressed him for more information after he gave them the bland answer of teacher. That, and his less than designer clothing made Will practically invisible to them if it were not for Hannibal constantly orbiting and touching him. It was an unusual sensation to realize that he had been regulated to "arm candy". Will took his role of being seen but not heard very seriously, despite Hannibal's best efforts to include him in any ongoing conversations. It was nice being a small fish in a large pond for once. His current profession and Jack Crawford usually didn't allow for such things.

"Oh, but the feast is life. You put the life in your belly and you live." Hannibal said magnanimously, like he had just departed some ancient forgotten knowledge. His audience was really lapping it up.

"Yes, that is typically how food works." Will said dryly, much to the delight of Mrs. Komeda.

"It's a dinner. Not a unicorn." Made Will chuckle. He was really beginning to like Mrs. Komeda.

"This young man seems to be trying to get your attention." She said in polite dismay, the undesirable company upon them now. The joyful energy radiating from Franklin was almost palpable.

"Franklin, isn't it? I thought I recognized you." Will smiled, the expression widening as he noticed the pained look that flashed across Hannibal's face. "Good to see you again under much better circumstances."

"How do you all know each other?" Mrs. Komeda asked, her interest in these strange proceedings perking her interest which meant they were now the focus of the room. If Hannibal was king of this social scene, she was the queen.

"You must allow me some mystery to my life outside of the opera." Hannibal tried to divert, but Franklin was not so easily detoured. Like a bull in a china shop, Will was pleased to note.

"Oh, I'm a patient of Dr. Lecter. I witnessed a patient being murdered in his office. Agent Graham was there as well." Franklin admitted happily, Hannibal visibly dying a little inside to Will. "This is my friend Tobias."

"Good to meet you both." Was what Tobias said, but it was clearly only directed at Hannibal. Will managed to not roll his eyes to check the backside of his head, keeping a bland expression fixed on his face. His impoliteness was noted by Hannibal anyway so no real need to react.

"Agent Graham? I thought you said you were a teacher?" Mrs. Komeda head whipped around to study Will with renewed interest.

"Oh, he is. Will teaches at the FBI when he's not working in the field. He is currently working on catching the Chesapeake Ripper." Hannibal supplied, effectively blowing up Will's bit of social protection while still being a smartass shit about it. Thank to Franklin and Hannibal, the profiler was suddenly one of the most interesting people in room right now.

"Most of what I do can't and shouldn't be spoken about in polite company." Will said easily, faking a tired yet easy professional smile. Hannibal was about to find out that though Will didn't care for much socializing, it didn't mean that he was unaware of its nuances.

"How ever did you two meet then?" Mrs. Komeda asked.

"At a small intimate dinner party at my place." Hannibal supplied.

"See? I told you they were an event!" Mrs. Komeda said emphatically, gesturing between them.

Oh. Oh dear. Even from the sidelines, Will could already tell that Tobias was going to be an issue. This one was going to be trouble if he wasn't already. Tobias had definitely killed before, and if Will were a betting man, he was certain that Tobias was quite good at it, though his discretion was beginning to waver. Will could tell by the look on his face, the way he sized up Hannibal.

"What the fuck? Do they smell their own kind?" Will sighed to himself, glad he was armed. At one point in his life, Will would have said that he was perfectly safe in the here and now, at a fancy party drinking a fairly good champagne. Or at least, he would have if Hannibal were other people, the kind that weren't sadist cannibalistic serial killers that seemed to attract others like bees to wild clover.

"Never mind that. It all comes with the job and I have training as well as a top notch psychiatrist. The real man of the hour is Franklin. It was his testimony that put Stammets away for good." Will said as he patted Franklin hardily on his back like they were old chums. It took effect like Will knew it would. Franklin was dying to be included in anything greater than himself.

"You know, this might be just the inspiration you need." Will turned back to Hannibal who to his credit was not unraveling, but the seams on his perfect person suit were beginning to loosen. "There's your unicorn, Mrs. Komeda."

"A feast that has presented itself." Mrs. Komeda said which made Will equal parts amused and queasy when it came down to the thought of eating Franklin. "You get to live another day because of him so it only seems fair to fill his belly.

"Astute as ever, but he is still my patient." Hannibal tried.

"So? Cook over at my place. He'll be the guest you weren't aware about being there." Mrs. Komeda offered with a mean twinkle in her eyes. Oh, she was keen. Will wondered how much she had actually figured out already about Hannibal.

"I don't discuss my personal life for many excellent professional reasons." Hannibal was being trapped by a cage of his own creation and social constructs.

"That, and he likes an air of mystery about him." Will wasn't about to let him escape.

"Can you tell us something of interest?" Mrs. Komeda said radiantly as more people drew in close to hear every word.

"I could, but you'll never be able to find my body afterward." Will grinned. He was beginning to understand why Hannibal did this as their audience tittered into their champagne.

"I'd watch your back here as well. There'll be more than a few people that will be insanely jealous of you for getting to eat all that exquisite cooking whenever you like." Mrs. Komeda leaned in to whisper as if to conspire.

"Does that include you?" Will whispered back. The champagne must actually be getting to him because he was having a good time.

"Perish the thought. You are far too highly entertaining to dispatch." She winked, "Plus, I like to watch Hannibal squirm."

"I can make him do more than that." Will winked back making her laugh.

"Are you two done plotting?" Hannibal sighed.

"Hardly. When would be best for you?" Mrs. Komeda straightened to direct a haughty compelling look that him, one that brooked no argument or excuse.

"I need to search for some key ingredients, but I would say, perhaps in two weeks." Which was code for "I gotta go murder all bunch of people who have annoyed me at some point". Thankfully for Franklin, he was already on the guest list, and not the dinner menu.

"Would it be all right if I brought cheese? Hannibal and I are cheese folk." Franklin said, making Will's night utterly complete as he watched something perish a little bit more inside Hannibal.

"I'll hold you to that, buddy." Will grinned, Franklin looking close to swooning. He didn't know many people who could look any happier than Franklin in this moment.

Hannibal was never going to let him hear the end of it so Will reasoned he had nothing to lose. He caught a server with a refreshed tray of champagne.

"A toast to Franklin for saving our Hannibal and all his future dinner parties."