Will had returned from walking his dogs just after sunrise when his phone rang in his pocket. Seeing Jack's name on the screen, he quickly answered. "Another already?"
It had only been thirteen days since the last.
"This one's different. I'll text you the address."


Hannibal opened the door to his home at lunchtime that day, finding Grace standing there in a chin-length black-haired wig.
"Are you busy?" She grinned, her pink polka dot sundress befitting that afternoon's weather as she clutched a rolled up newspaper in one hand. While still not fully healed, the marks on her face and neck were completely covered by makeup.
"Not at all. Come in."
She followed him before taking a seat in one of the armchairs in the living room. Then she unravelled the newspaper, holding it up for him to see as he settled into the chair across from her. "'Has The Chesapeake Ripper Returned?' Very low key."
He smirked as he glanced out the window to the street. "Ostentatious, just like your choice of car."
With a wicked smile, she shrugged. "I'm enjoying my late husband's money." After a moment, she tossed the paper onto the coffee table before leaning back in her seat.

"May I ask that you take off the wig?"
Grace scowled at him. "Why?"
His warm gaze did not falter. "Because I want to talk to the real Grace, not one of her caricatures."
A laugh escaped her as she pulled the black hair off, revealing her dyed brunette locks beneath. She dropped the wig into her lap before removing two clips from her hair, allowing it to fall onto her shoulders. "Better?"
"Much."
"I was trying a new one out." Her eyes brightened as they bounced to him. "Have you thought more about my gift?"
Hannibal's expression shifted as he crossed his legs. "Kidneys are our body's filters. They maintain a delicate homeostasis, eliminating toxins while holding onto what we need."
A grin swept across her face. "Apt, don't you think? After everything with you and Gideon… I held onto the bits I needed, and let go of the parts that weren't good for me."
"What inspired the metaphor?" He silently pondered how one could apply it to her choice in victims, his concentration never leaving her.
Her features softened as she considered his question. "When I was in Kandahar, I was in charge of a dialysis ward for a while. We didn't exactly have a safe corridor for people to service our machines, so I had to learn everything I could about renal physiology and pathology- since I barely scratched the surface before- to be able to safely treat patients and fix the machines… Honestly, it was fun. I know you're all about the brain, but two million nephrons carefully balancing your entire body by filtering a litre of blood in their glomeruli each minute? They're always fascinating, even if the person who owns them isn't." A smirk pulled at her magenta-pink lips.
A flash of pride appeared in the psychiatrist's gaze as he regarded her, pleased to see that her macabre curiosity and insightfulness still contained traces of his influence. "That adds another layer to your gift. Thank you."
"My pleasure."

Grace crossed her legs dramatically, her top one fidgeting as her white heeled sandal flickered back and forth against the sole of her foot. "I went back to my parents' house… They moved shortly after I went 'missing', but I still expected to feel something visiting the place again… Truthfully, coming back here feels more like returning home."
He gave her a sincere smile. "You could always be yourself here, something you were never comfortable doing there… Now your memory palace is building, but it still shares some rooms with my own."
"Some are fancier than others." Her expression filled with mirth as she glanced around.
"Did you spend a long time in Florence?"
She shook her head, regret in her eyes. "No. I wish I did though; it's a breathtaking city."
"Maybe someday." He rose then, disappearing into the kitchen wordlessly.

A moment later he returned holding a small, light-blue gift box. "Happy birthday, Grace."
Surprise entered her features as she took it from him. "How did you know?"
"I had seen your date of birth in your hospital file before we first met- the twenty-first of August." He hovered in the middle of the living room, gesturing for her to open it.
She obeyed, her thumbs slipping the lid off the box as her eyes widened at the sapphire pendant necklace nestled inside. They flickered to him then, the edges of her brown orbs losing their sharpness. "It's beautiful. Thank you…" The first genuine smile he had seen in over two years brightened up her cheeks as she stood, one hand pushing the wig onto the chair behind her. "Will you help me put it on?"
He approached, taking the white gold chain out of the box as she held it out. He beckoned her to turn then, waiting for her to lift her soft waves out of the way before gently laying the pendant on her chest, and securing the clasp at the nape of her neck. "I'm glad you like it."
Grace turned to face him, her eyes searching his. "I'm not sure I'll ever fully understand you."
Hannibal's responding enigmatic smile only fuelled her belief.


A few minutes later she arrived on Zach's doorstep, her gaze filled with playfulness.
"Grace- woah, is that yours?" He looked past her to the silver Bugatti Veyron parked on the street outside his house.
"It is this weekend. I thought, what better way to spend the first day of my twenty-second year on this earth than driving it around with Zach?"
His expression warmed at her words as he raised an eyebrow at her. "It's your birthday?"
She nodded as a young platinum blonde woman appeared behind him.
Zach turned to put his arm around her as he introduced them. "Grace, this is my girlfriend, Jessica. Jess, this is Grace."
"Hey." The slightly taller woman smiled politely before looking back at him. "Should I go?"
"I didn't mean to interrupt…" She glanced back at the two-seater sports car for a second. "You know what? I've been driving it around all day." Holding out the keys to him, she asked, "Why don't you take Jessica for a spin?"
His eyes widened. "You sure?"
After placing the keys in his hand, she nodded. "Yeah! I might roll myself a joint while you're gone."
"Feel free." He laughed incredulously as his excited gaze shifted to his girlfriend. "You up for it?"
"Sure!" She gave Grace a grateful look as he led her outside.


They returned almost forty minutes later, finding his guest perched in her usual spot on his couch scrolling through her phone. She glanced up at them as they walked into the room, her eyes filled with mischief. "Fun, huh?"
He threw her the keys with a wide smile. "You're lucky I came back."
Jessica sat on the other end of the couch with a laugh. "He's not lying."
"I get it. I might not give it back."
Zach excused himself then, moving further into the house to the bathroom.
"He's told me a lot about you." Jess' hazel eyes studied Grace for a few seconds before concluding with, "You seem to be close."
Her features softened as she nodded. "We've known each other for a while… He's told me a lot about you too." She lied easily as her discomfort grew.
The blonde's gaze narrowed then. "Have you two ever been more than..?"
She shook her head as she gave the other woman a reassuring smile. "No, it's not like that. We're just friends."
"But have you ever slept together?," she continued, persistent in her pursuit of information.
Grace's forehead creased as she tried to delicately retract from the situation. "I uh… I think this is a conversation you should have with Zach."

He reappeared seconds later with his phone in his hand. "Wanna order some pizza?"
The brunette stood, smoothing her dress down. "Actually, I should get going… But you guys enjoy." She gave him an apologetic smile, her brow furrowed as she watched confusion sweep across his face.
"Sure… Thanks for letting me drive the Veyron. And happy birthday."

After giving them an awkward wave from the hallway, Grace's heels soon retreated to the sports car outside, grateful for the acceleration it could reach as she put distance between herself and the mess she had created.


The sun was setting in the pink, cloudy sky when Will arrived back from the crime scene in Virginia, his boots once again sinking into the mud as he surveyed the obnoxious car parked outside his house. The door opened then, his dogs spilling out as Grace appeared on the porch.
"You should really hide your spare key better, especially since you've chosen to go back to keeping dangerous company. It barely took me five minutes to find it…"
He considered how her statement could apply both to Dr Lecter and the woman clad in a sundress before him as he approached. "Aren't you supposed to be keeping a low profile?"
She grinned, holding the key she had out to him. "This is as low as it gets, Will."
He shook his head, taking it from her before gesturing inside.

When they and the dogs had settled in his living room, he turned his attention to her. "You saw the news?"
Grace nodded, her expression dimming as she moved to sit cross-legged on the armchair. "I was hoping we would have more time."
His gaze narrowed on her as his features filled with suspicion. "For what?"
"To catch him before he started again, obviously." She tilted her head to one side, her eyebrows raised. "Do you really think I want him roaming around consequence-free?"
His jaw tensed as his face darkened. "You have a plan."
"I have many plans." Her eyes were bright as her magenta lips curved into a small smile.
"Grace…" He leaned forward in his seat while rubbing his forehead, clearly frustrated as he contemplated his next words.
"Don't, Will." Her gaze moved to one of the dogs lounging on the floor between them. "What did you see today?"

After a moment he relented with a sigh, his back resting into the chair once again. "The body was left in an indoor butterfly garden in Virginia…." He paused, remembering dozens of colourful butterflies gliding through the air around him as he entered the room. He silently mused how she would have liked it there in usual circumstances. "It was suspended to a mural… Organs missing. The usual."
"He's being poetic again," she remarked thoughtfully as her fingers tapped along the edge of the armrest.
"You think this is about you?" His eyebrows were raised.
"At risk of sounding self-centred… Kind of. Don't you?" She finally glanced at him.
"It could be about his master plan coming to fruition… Whatever that is."
"Or just something pretty to look at." She froze before gesturing one of her hands into the space between them. "Not the dead body part… I'm not that crazy."
"You're not crazy at all." His features softened as he regarded her carefully.

Within seconds Will was crouching down in front of her chair, attempting to capture her gaze once more. "You don't deserve to have their blood on your hands, Grace."
Her guarded eyes eventually met his, her brow furrowed. "Please, don't."
"You don't have to continue down this path. It's not too late to stop."
She let out a shaky, humourless laugh. "You don't believe that."
"Yes I do… Because I know you, Grace." He held both of her hands in his, squeezing them to emphasise his words. "This isn't you."
An expressionless veil immediately fell over her countenance as her gaze became distant. "I wouldn't be so sure about that."

After pulling out of his grasp, she swiftly moved into the kitchen, busying herself with cutting a slice of the small chocolate fudge cake on the countertop. She waited until he had joined her before speaking. "Please don't argue with me; it's my birthday."
"It is?" Surprise flashed across his features as he studied hers.
"Mhm." She glanced up at him through her eyelashes, her mouth curved down into a pout. "So be nice." Her expression shifted as she returned her attention to the cake. "Why did you go back to therapy with him?"
Will inhaled a breath to steady himself before leaning against the counter on the other side of the plate. "Curiosity."
"Because that ended so well for me…" She smirked, using the knife to move the slice onto a smaller plate before handing it to him. After dishing out another piece for herself, she met his gaze. "He's going to try fuck with your head again."
"I know." He fetched two forks from the drawer beside his hip before giving her one. "He's not going to succeed this time though."
A flash of doubt and defeat passed through her brown orbs. "So you won't stop seeing him."
"Not until he's behind bars… Or worse." His gaze was resolute.
She glanced up at him briefly before swallowing the lump in her throat and popping a forkful of cake into her mouth.

"Have you spoken to your parents?" Will absently picked at his food.
"No… Not since before the whole Gideon thing." She shrugged, nonchalance settling across her features. "They probably think I'm dead; they're better off that way."
"I don't believe that."
"You don't know them," she countered before placing her plate on the table. After slipping out of her jacket, she hung it over the back of the chair that she then sat in.
He followed her, taking the opposing seat. "No, I don't. But I did experience not knowing if you were dead or alive for two years…"
Grace's brow furrowed, her eyes remaining on her slice of cake. "I think you stupidly hold me to a higher regard."
"Not stupidly."
When her gaze met his ardent one, her breath caught as she attempted to stifle her reaction. "Trust me, they're glad to be rid of my drama."
"What about you?" His head inclined to one side as he observed her.
"What about me?"
His blue eyes softened. "What would be best for you?"
Her jaw tensed. "I don't matter."
"I disagree."
"Again, stupidly." Her next stab into the cake was more forceful.
"There are people who care about what happens to you, Grace. You should too."

She rolled her eyes as her expression hardened. "Can we please talk about literally anything else?"
A smirk played across his mouth. "Fine. What's your plan for Hannibal?"
Following an exasperated sigh, she shot daggers at him. "You're not fun when you're like this."
"I never claimed to be fun."
A flash of mischievousness entered her eyes as she held a forkful of icing near her lips. "Not verbally, no…"
His gaze darkened. "We're not doing this tonight."
"Doing what?" Her tone dripped with innocence.
"Using sex to avoid talking."
"I don't do that."
He raised his eyebrows at her sceptically.
"I never heard you complaining." Defiance settled onto her countenance.
"Still… We need to work together. If you had let me in on your plan with Gideon, I could have…" Regret stiffened his frame.
"There's nothing you could have done to change what happened, Will."
"Even if that's true… I can help now. You don't have to do this alone, Grace." He dropped his fork before his hand reached across the expanse between them.

Her brown orbs studied his awaiting grasp for a moment, uncomprehending in his selflessness. "Alone is exactly how I have to do it." Her eyes flashed to his then. "You should have never gotten involved again."
His hand retracted, forming a fist on the table instead. "Did you learn nothing from the last time? Have you not thought that maybe having you feeling alone and isolated is what he's hoping for?"
A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "So we give him that."
He stared incredulously.
"The only way we're going to catch him, is if his guard is down… Now that you're seeing him again, he knows I'm not really alone. He knows I have you." Her gaze hardened as it held his, determined. "Unless he thinks I don't have you."
A distance fell over Will's features as he contemplated her words, and what it would take to convince Hannibal of them.