Emma jogged up the steps to the museum, cursing under her breath at the height of heel she had chosen to wear that day. The black pumps matched her sleek dress perfectly, but they were wreaking havoc on her size 7 feet. As she threw open the heavy glass doors and rushed along the granite tiled floor, she glanced down at the files in hand. They all consisted of the new objects that were to be debuted at the museum, and Emma was anxious to see them in person. She had an idea for the layout of the pieces in what she hoped would be a fantastic exhibition, but she wouldn't be entirely sure until she saw the pieces up close.
As she rounded a corner rather sharply, she collided with an unsuspecting patron. Emma's files exploded from her arms, single pages fluttering to the floor in a storm of paper and folders. With a quiet "Shit!" Emma bent down to collect her vast array of paperwork. "I'm so sorry, sir, please forgive my klutziness. I'm afraid it's been an off day." She glanced up with a remorseful gaze, to find the well-dressed man scowling at her.
"Watch where you're going, you little bitch! I swear to god, there isn't a single competent person who works here!"
Emma was taken aback, and as she righted herself she frowned. "I said I was sorry, sir, I'm not sure there's anything more I can do to rectify the situation."
He sneered at her; his eyes studied her more closely. "You look awfully familiar. Or maybe it's just the slutty way you're dressed. Is that why you collided with me? Hoping to start a conversation so you can get a little action? Do you charge the same rate as you do in the red light district, or do you up the prices when you're around Baltimore's elite?"
Emma's mouth gaped in horror. "Excuse me? I don't know you, and the way you're speaking to me is completely unnecessary. I'd appreciate it if you'd leave the premises. Immediately."
"I believe you heard the lady."
Emma whipped around, only to find an impeccably dressed Dr. Lecter towering over her. She met his gaze, and automatically wished she hadn't. While his expression remained cordial and unreadable as ever, his eyes told a different tale. On the surface, they matched his face; polite yet reserved. With slightly more effort, Emma saw maroon eyes burning with a predatory fire, as if urging the man to give him cause to let that torrid emotion out and inflict severe misery to the man in question. Emma shivered lightly at the thought. With a start, she realized the two men had carried on a conversation while she had been lost in Hannibal's eyes, and spinning around to face the other, she saw him extending a card-holding hand to Lecter.
As the man walked away, Emma quickly shook her head, bringing her back to the present. "Dr. Lecter, what a pleasant surprise! I regret that you had to be witness to that; actually I seem to just be full of apologies this morning," said Emma with a light laugh. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Lecter smiled down at the petite woman, taking in her professional attire and loose chignon. Big brown eyes gazed up at him with delight. "Ms. Chamberlin, since I've met you, you've profusely apologized for others' behavior, and unnecessarily for your own; I am not the least bit amazed that you do so this morning as well," he said with a wry smile. Emma blushed, glancing down and back up to the doctor. He placed his hand imperceptibly in the middle of her back, leading her to a bench in the rotunda. He gestured for her to sit, seating himself next to her on the small, sturdy bench. "I'm afraid my visit isn't purely social; there was a reason I came to see you this morning." As he spoke, he lifted a brown leather briefcase that she hadn't noticed before onto his lap, opening it with a nimble flick of his wrist. He pulled out his tablet, opened it, and presented it to her.
Emma took the tablet as she met Hannibal's gaze with a curious look, and glanced down at the pristine screen. In blaring red letters read, "PROMINENT PSYCHIATRIST SEDUCED BY UNSTABLE HARLOT," printed boldly as the headline to the front page of The Tattler. Emma gasped, right hand flying to her red-stained mouth. She scrutinized the accompanying picture of her and her psychiatrist looking very friendly on the porch of his home. From an outsider's perspective, it looked convincing indeed; Dr. Lecter's hands grasping her shoulders tenderly, she standing a little too close for what was appropriate in a professional relationship, and what sealed the deal was the look they exchanged. In shock, Emma handed the tablet back to Dr. Lecter, eyes wide with contrition.
"According to this crafty article forged by Ms. Lounds, ever since our first session you have been trying to seduce your way into my bed. I must commend Ms. Lounds; she had the ability to turn even the most polite touches into something bordering on tawdry. She goes on to speculate about your mental health in a particularly unflattering way," said Lecter with a frown.
At the mention of who had written the piece, Emma's hands clenched and skin flushed. With a tight voice, she said, "That woman is a piece of work. Perhaps I should pay her a visit later and set her straight." Her nostrils flared as she huffed in anger, trying to calm herself with deep breaths.
Lecter laid a comforting hand on her shoulder, tilting his head to catch her gaze. "Emma, I can assure you that your newfound acquaintanceships will not perish from the lies spun by Ms. Lounds, nor will your employment be endangered."
She deflated, looking at him with pure confusion etched on her face. "Doctor, you misunderstand me; my concern isn't for my own reputation, it's for yours."
Hannibal's eyebrows arched imperceptibly in mild astonishment; that was not what he had expected her to say whatsoever. He had been convinced that her reaction would be due to the fact that Ms. Lounds had tarnished Emma's fledgling reputation here in Baltimore by painting her as promiscuous and insane. Instead, her concern was only for him.
"Dr. Lecter, you have worked so hard to establish a flawless reputation; people trust you with their deepest secrets and darkest desires. In one fowl swoop I have managed to tarnish it by Lounds suggesting that there was anything untoward happening between us." She dropped her eyes to study her hands in her lap. "This article is atrocious. Not only is she implying that you are taking advantage of a patient/psychiatrist relationship, but she's stooping so low as to imply that you are associating with a promiscuous, licentious woman. No soul that can claim to know you would believe that for a second. I just hope everyone else doesn't take Lounds at her word."
Hannibal locked eyes with her and studied her intently. "You aren't at all concerned about how others in town will perceive you, especially with you being such a recent addition to Baltimore?"
She smiled gently at him. "Doctor, I have been called much worse in my life than an 'unstable harlot.' The only people I've even conversed with at length are friends and associates of yours or people who work here with me. Since you are a regular patron of the museum I'm sure my coworkers won't think any less of me, and since my boss undoubtedly knows what type of man you are, I have no concern about my job." She smirked. "It doesn't hurt that I'm too damn good at it to boot."
Hannibal chuckled, crossing his legs. "You make valid points, Emma. But rest assured that I have no concern regarding the state of my reputation in this city, nor should you. I appreciate wholeheartedly the selflessness of your concern," he said with a small smile.
She grinned back. "I'll try not to fret over it, then." Tucking a stray piece of hair back out of her face, Emma sighed. "Is Ms. Lounds always this problematic? Or is pissing her off just a talent I seem to possess?"
Hannibal leaned back, folding his hands in his lap. "Ms. Lounds is rather like a mosquito: parasitic and always accompanied by a dull whine." Emma snickered at the comparison. "The best you can do is just swat her away and not give her the satisfaction of acknowledging her vain attempts at mischief. She enjoys targeting those associated with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. Since you were a guest at my home along with Will, Alana, and Jack, and are seeing me for therapy, you were the perfect target for her libelous journalism."
"Good thing I have a thick skin, then," murmured Emma. "I'll do my best to not let her writing bother me." She paused, considering, before speaking slowly. "Since you're here anyway, would you like to see the new pieces we just received? I'm technically not supposed to show the public before the exhibition, but I honestly can't contain myself," she giggled.
A good-natured smile pulled at the corners of the doctor's mouth as he nodded his head in assent. "I would enjoy that immensely. I don't have an appointment scheduled until this afternoon, so I have the time to spare."
With a wide grin, Emma leapt up from the wooden bench, gathering her files into her arms. She seemed to vibrate with anticipation, anxiously leading him down the hallway she had previously been heading before the 52-file pickup had occurred. Her eyes glistened with eagerness, doubling her speed as they reached a frosted glass door near the end of the hallway. She threw it open, holding it with her back for the doctor to enter first.
She practically ran across the room, dumping the files on a modern, black desk and loped to the double doors at the back of the sparse room. She entered a four-digit passcode and opened the door enthusiastically. Gesturing wildly for Lecter to follow, she strode into the massive storage room, stood in the middle, and held her arms out wide. "Dr. Lecter, may I present the newest pride and joy of the Baltimore museum."
From wall to wall, the room was swathed in Egyptian artifacts. Statues, sarcophagi, carvings, and canopic jars gleamed under the high fluorescent lighting. Hannibal slowly made his way around the room, admiring each piece as he passed; some made him wonder how the archaeologists got them cleared through Customs. As he progressed through the room, he noticed that the pieces were already arranged by period and category. There was a beautiful flow to the layout of the pieces, reminiscent of being eased along down a river with a slow, easy current.
Emma scrutinized the doctor as he made his way through the preliminary set-up of her exhibit, nervously watching his body language, trying to decipher what he truly thought of the pieces. As he reached the last of the carvings, he turned to face her. A gleam of pleasure and approval lit his eyes as he nodded his head thoughtfully.
"These pieces are magnificent. You managed to procure such a vast array of pieces from each period, and it is in all honesty rather impressive. The preliminary set-up of the artifacts is quite literally moving; I found myself pushed along, eager to lay eyes upon the next relic. You will astound anyone with an ounce of artistic appreciation with this exhibit, Emma, I assure you," said Hannibal with a smile.
Emma beamed at him, thoroughly flattered. The boss had provided similar feedback regarding the pieces she had procured, but for some unknown reason the compliments were much more satisfying coming from her psychiatrist. "Thank you so much, Dr. Lecter. It means a lot to me that you find even the initial stages of the exhibit moving. Hardly anyone in my department has the same level of appreciation I have for these things, and showing you these pieces has been so much more fulfilling than their reactions, let me tell you," said Emma as she wandered through the artifacts, left hand lightly grazing the pedestals they rested on.
Hannibal clasped his hands behind his back, watching her progress through the room. "When is the exhibit set to open to the public?"
Emma reached his side, observing the piece in front of her as she pondered. "Well, I have a month's leeway to work with, but I was thinking I'd push for a debut in two weeks instead," she smirked. "Let's just hope I can get enough publicity for it. I still have to ask my boss who we usually go to in order to make those huge banners for the front of the museum to advertise the upcoming exhibits." She worried her bottom lip, turning her doe eyes to Hannibal. "I really should make a note of that."
She led him out of the room and walked to her desk, pulling open a nondescript drawer and retrieving a stack of blue sticky notes and a black fountain pen. She scrawled a note to herself in elegant, if hurried, writing, and stuck it to the front of her iMac. As she did so, one of her colleagues entered briskly, halting abruptly at the sight of the two at Emma's desk. Emma looked up and smiled brightly. "Hi, Johanna!"
Johanna responded with a curt nod, grabbed a file off her own desk, and marched out of the room. Emma stared after her quizzically. She turned back to Lecter, confusion pulling at her features. "How odd; Johanna is always incredibly warm to me. I wonder what that was all about."
She gestured that he sit in her plush, leather, office chair, while Emma herself hopped up onto the further corner of her desk, crossing her legs. Hannibal seated himself with a nod of thanks. "She is the woman who recommended my services to you, no doubt?"
With a bewildered expression, Emma muttered, "Yeah, she was the one. Just on Friday she was asking me how the appointments were going! I don't understand what could have changed so drastically between then and now."
With a barely audible sigh and a crossing of his long legs, Hannibal murmured, "I believe I might know the cause. When Ms. Summers was seeing me, she formed an attachment of sorts. Our interactions ended with her therapy, excluding the occasional conversations when I would visit the opening of a new display here at the museum. No doubt she saw this morning's headline and is exhibiting a jealousy of sorts." Incredulous brown eyes met solicitous maroon ones.
"I wonder how many of my coworkers are now going to be under the impression that I'm an immoral, crazy lady," she sighed to herself. "Well, she was the one who warned me about falling for you. I'd like to think I'd have the good sense to end a professional relationship if my emotions became an impairment." She tugged the front of her dress decisively, head held high. She turned her gaze to meet the doctor's, a sly smile pulling the corners of her mouth up and mischief dancing in her eyes. "Although if anything I'm extremely flattered that they would consider for an instant I could win your attention and affections. After all, you're quite the catch, Dr. Lecter." She winked and laughed, grinning broadly at him.
He smiled back humorously, chuckling along with her. "The sentiment is much appreciated, Emma, thank you."
"You're quite welcome, Dr. Lecter, but it is just fact. If a woman wasn't attracted to you in one way or another, I'd question her sanity." She kicked her legs back and forth, catching them right before they would thud against the desk.
Hannibal analyzed her expression, curiously asking, "Are you attracted to me, Emma?"
Emma stopped swinging her legs, turning her torso to face him with a smile. "Dr. Lecter, I'd be blind to not find aspects of you objectively attractive. You're a handsome, cultured man with unparalleled manners. I'd be a fool to not be enticed by you. Plus, you cook at a standard I had never had the pleasure of experiencing before, and that alone is hitting the lottery. But you need not worry, I'd never jeopardize a friendship and professional relationship with you by allowing emotion to take route in what is currently simple objective observations. I'm simply stating that you could have your choice of women; I daresay they're probably forming a queue," she said with a snicker.
He regarded her with pleasant surprise. She was not as intimidated by him as other women usually were, and felt comfortable enough with him to express such perceptions knowing that he would understand exactly how she meant them. Another emotion stirred in his gut; each time he was around her, this pestering sensation made itself known, and was growing more resilient with each interaction. If he were honest with himself, he would admit that it was budding attraction to the woman before him. Given time, it would either pass or demand to be acted on; he would reevaluate when that time came.
She hopped up off the desk, straightening out her dress as she did so. "Would you like to grab an early lunch, Doctor? It's going on 11:30, and I skipped breakfast this morning. Of course if you have other plans, I certainly understand," she said courteously.
Hannibal stood alongside her. "I have an hour before I need to head back to the office. Would you care to dine at my home? I usually prepare my own lunches."
Emma grinned. "If you aren't careful, sir, I'm going to become addicted to your cooking. But yes, I would love to enjoy your cooking once again. Let me just check my email really quickly and grab my bag."
She plopped herself down in her chair, kicking it over to her computer and crisply typing in the login information the computer requested. Her fingers flew nimbly over the keyboard, pulling up her email effortlessly. Hannibal took this time to check his messages on his phone, scrolling deftly. He glanced up to check Emma's progress, only to see that her face was entirely void of color. Walking swiftly over to her, he crouched down and swung the chair so that she faced him.
"Emma, what's wrong?"
She merely pointed at the screen, where an open email with no return address was displayed. His eyes scanned the email rapidly, taking in the message. In towering block letters, it read "Blood is red, asphyxiation is blue, heading to Baltimore, I'm gonna find you."