Ana sat perched on a stool at the stainless steel topped island in Hannibal's kitchen. He had laid down a few dish towels for Ana to rest her hand on while he removed the glass. However, he had disappeared into a side room to retrieve his tools several minutes prior, leaving her alone - and bleeding rather a lot - in his kitchen.
She drummed her foot against the legs of her seat in consternation. She had never needed medical attention for anything severe; the worst injury she could recall was a sprained finger, which she braced herself with popsicle sticks for a few days before returning to her normal routine.
"My apologies, it's been some time since I've had to take these out, I forgot where I had put them." He said, emerging from the doorway with a brown leather case, "Unfortunately, I don't have anything that will dull the pain, so this may be a bit uncomfortable for you." He added, unzipping the case to reveal several sets of shears, a variety of scalpels, tweezers, probes, and something that Ana could not identify.
"Oh, that's okay." Ana bleated, "Let's do this then."
"Your hands are shaking quite a lot. Are you nervous?"
"I've never need stitches before. I think I'm just anxious." Ana confessed.
"Take a few deep breaths and close your eyes." He said putting on a pair of gloves before unwrapping Ana's bandaging. There were several small cuts across the distal joints of her fingers that could be bandaged and left to heal on their own. However, the was a two centimeter gash between the knuckles of her first and second fingers. Hannibal took her hand and lifted it toward the light. Ana's hand flinched when he touched it; the skin and muscles tightened around her bones and a small, jagged protrusion could be seen under the epidermis.
"I'm going to take the glass out now. I need you to make a tight fist." Hannibal instructed. Ana constricted the muscles in her hand, pushing the shard of glass to the opening of her wound. He grasped the shard with a set of tweezers and gently pulled out a long sliver of mirror. Hannibal brought the piece of mirror to eye level, catching a smeared, fleeting reflection of himself in the object before placing it in a dish next to Ana's hand.
"When I was very young, I cut my hand on a kitchen knife. It was deep enough to warrant suturing so my mother took me to the hospital. We waited for over an hour to finally see a doctor, but by the time they admitted me, I had become so nervous that I couldn't stop my hands from shaking." He spoke with a slow even tempo, pulling Ana's focus away from the stitches.
"They told me they were going to give me a shot, near the wound, to numb the pain. To this day, I remember the pain of the needle so vividly that I can still feel it sometimes. It just so happened that they had given me a saline solution to trick me so my hands would stop shaking but I don't remember the pain of the sutures, only the syringe."
Hannibal blotted away some of the blood left on Ana's hand with a damp cloth.
"You're fine. That wasn't so bad, was it?" He asked, reaffirming her with a smile.
"No, it wasn't." Ana grinned, before noticing the small shard of bloody mirror laying next to her hand, "Why did you change professions? You obviously still have the skill." She asked, motioning to the freshly sutured wound on her hand.
"Sometimes the career you've chosen ends up consuming you. I decided not to be swallowed whole." Hannibal's voice grew darker while he collected his instruments.
"Well, I can't thank you enough." Ana said as she rose to her feet, "I should probably go though. It's late and I really don't want to impose anymore than I already have."
"I assure you, you're not imposing. At least stay for something to eat. You've lost a fair amount of blood, you could use the food." Hannibal invited as he began pulling a few ingredients from the refrigerator.
"That would be lovely. I have one condition though."
"And what would that be?" Hannibal contemplated the possibility that she was a vegetarian, or worse - a vegan.
"At least let me help you cook and clean up after."
"I always appreciate an extra pair of hands in the kitchen."
"Excellent, what were you planning to make?" Ana questioned.
"I feel like having breakfast. How does eggs benedict sound?"
"It sounds perfect. Where are your pots? I'll get some water started." Ana grinned.
"The large cabinet to left of the refrigerator. The next cupboard over has the mixing bowls."
Ana gathered two medium pots, a sautoir, and a stainless mixing bowl. She filled the two pots with a decent amount of water before turning the burners on. The mixing bowl sat atop one of the pots, creating a bain-marie.
"How many eggs would you like?" Ana asked.
"I think two will suit me."
Ana opened the door to the refrigerator. It was full of lush, green vegetables, a rather expensive looking array of cheeses, and what appeared to be homemade preserves but no eggs.
"I don't see any eggs which could be a problem for our eggs benedict plan."
"I must have put them in the pantry refrigerator." Hannibal said, his eyes focused on the ham he was carving pieces off of, "I'll get them in a moment."
"Oh, no worries. I'm sure I'll find them." Ana assured, opening the pantry door.
Several bunches of herbs hung above the rich, lacquered wood counter of the pantry. There was a large, farmhouse sink on the left followed by a cutting board succeeded by a tabletop bandsaw. Ana's eyes were drawn to the warm, Koa flooring. Following the grain with her gaze, the back wall of the pantry caught her attention. The whole wall was one massive, inset wine rack, holding dozens of bottles. She turned to the doorway as Hannibal approached.
"This is phenomenal." Ana waxed lyrical, still captivated by the wall of wines, "I'm never leaving." She added with a laugh.
"Pick out a bottle." Hannibal told her as took the eggs from the refrigerator.
"Eggs benedict and wine," Ana mused as she blindly plucked a bottle from the shelf, "Well, you know what they say: a coronary artery bypass is fastest way to a girl's heart."