When Will awoke, it was to the sweet smell of cinnamon, the blessed existence of coffee, and the constant buzz of his cell phone vibrating its way out of his pocket and across the floor. Prying tired eyes open to face the world, Will shifted and tried not to cringe at the sudden ache blooming in his lower regions. He very carefully leaned over the bed to claim his phone.

Reading Jack Crawford's name from the caller ID made Will fall back into the bed with a groan. "Good morning, Jack." he answered anyway. It wasn't going to be good news. Jack didn't call him for ice cream socials. Though belated in his thinking, Will wondered if he could fake a bad connection and hang up. All he really wanted to do was disappear back under the soft bedding that was still pleasantly warm with his body heat. Even better, the pillows and sheets smelled like Hannibal and Nigel, exotic with a touch of spice and tobacco.

"There's nothing good about it." He heard Jack sigh over the background din. Will could already visualize the large somber agent walking just far enough away from the crime scene to make his phone call in relative peace. There would be yellow tape in sight, because Jack would be keeping an eye on everything. There was always a crime scene, and if Jack was calling him in, it was going to be a bad one. "Will, I've got a body for you, and this one's pretty public. I'm need you to come take a look now."

"Sure, text me the location. I'll get there as soon as I can." Will rubbed his eyes, suddenly wishing not for the first time that Jack would find someone else to take advantage of.

"It's a playground in Baltimore. Some young kids and their parents found the body strung up there. I'll go into detail when you get here." Jack sounded pissed and as tired as Will felt. Interviewing shell shocked adults was difficult enough. When children were involved, it was a new fresh hell unto itself.

"I'm not coming from Wolf Trap so I'll be there sooner rather than later. I'm just having breakfast at Hannibal's." Will said and immediately regretted it. If Jack cared or thought it was unusual for him to do so with his unofficial therapist, his tone didn't hint anything toward that.

"Bring him along. We could use his expertise right now. I can't seem to get in touch with Dr. Bloom." Jack told him before hanging up, leaving Will to stare at the phone. A few seconds later, a text message bearing an address popped up for his viewing pleasure.

Looking around for his clothes, Will discovered a neatly folded pile at the end of the bed. It had been obviously left out for him considering there was nothing else in the room for him to wear. Wondering what Hannibal had done with his clothing that didn't include burning the garments, Will sorted through the offerings, surprisingly enough none of which were plaid or even had a pattern on them.

Tucking the dress shirt into pants that hung too loose on his slighter frame, Will fastened the belt that had been so courteously left for him. Given the fashion of the clothing, he had to assume they were Hannibal's, the man's preference for fabric and color showing in the vibrant purple dress shirt and rich material of the black slacks. He had thoughtfully tried to appeal to Will's simpler aesthetics though, which was appreciated. Will wasn't sure how he felt about purple though, but if Hannibal chose it for him, it was probably his color.

With only the slightest of limps, Will made his way downstairs, greeted instantly with the smell of fresh cinnamon rolls, no doubt baked from scratch. Accompanied by the bitter sin that was coffee, it was enough to make Will's mouth water. His stomach reminded him they had forgone supper the previous evening. The thought of food overrode other concerns that would have made Will pause before entering the kitchen. He was reminded up them in force upon finding both Nigel and Hannibal there.

"Good morning, gorgeous." Nigel purred from his place by the island, sipping coffee with a lit smoke hanging from his fingertips. It appeared he had raided Hannibal's closet as well, having stolen a lush white sweater that clung to his body in all the right places and charcoal grey slacks from it that did the same. He certainly had an appreciative eye for what Will was wearing as well. "Not too fucking bad. Looks like we're all pretty close in size."

Glanced up from his icing bag, Hannibal scrutinized Will's new look before nodding. "They will do for the day." he conceded, finishing his task of creating perfect cream cheese icing roses atop the cinnamon rolls. Cleaning his hands off on his apron, Hannibal approached Will to stand behind him, making the little hairs on Will's neck stand up on end. He tried not to shift away when Hannibal started pinching a small amount of fabric on either side to bring the shirt in a little more closely to Will's generally ignored form.

"This would be preferable, a far shapelier fit. The shoulders would need to come in a fraction as well." Hannibal critiqued, softening his assessment with a soft kiss pressed to Will's temple. Will held still as his curls were scented cause apparently that was going to be a thing now between them. "You look beautiful all the same. That color suits you even better than I thought it would. It brings out the blue in your eyes."

"As long as you like it." Will mumbled, feeling himself flush as he was admired by both people in the room. It was mildly disconcerting to be the object of so much attention for the right reasons. Normally, people just stared at him because they thought he was weird or were worried that he was about to lose his shit.

"Thank you." Will said, remembering his manners. They were very important to at least one killer in the room, Hannibal smiling in response to it as he returned to his rolls. His presence was immediately replace by Nigel who cut to the chase, kissing Will full on the mouth, his long fingers buried into Will's curls to keep him in place. It left the taste of coffee and nicotine in his mouth, and his head a little dazed.

Before he could have any say in the matter, Will was being led to the dining room by one brother while the other finished up their plates, the dishes full of delicately poached eggs, crispy bacon, and still warm cinnamon rolls. Will was sat down to coffee and breakfast before he knew it, the twins joining him though Nigel switched seats from where Hannibal had put his plate. Instead of sitting across from Will, Nigel sat beside him, putting the profiler in-between the two men. Hannibal huffed a soft sound at the change, but chose to say nothing to an answering grin of challenge from Nigel

"Sorry, I can't. I have to go to a crime scene." Will said at a loss. His stomach was telling him to shut up and stay, but his head was telling him to go.

"Was it Uncle Jack who woke you from your slumber with promise of a new nightmare to place under your pillow?" Hannibal arched a brow, unimpressed by the news.

"Yes…" Will started to say, still making no move to leave the table though. His hunger and conscious were having a serious debate with one another.

"Well, your body isn't going to get any deader…" Nigel laughed, already digging in.

"…So you might as well stay and enjoy a moment of your morning while you can. Eat your food, Will." Hannibal finished for his twin, pointing his fork at Will's untouched plate.

That kind of reasoning won out, Will settling in with a small sigh of defeat. It was delicious of course, savory and sweet with just a touch of spice from whatever Hannibal had poached the eggs in. The bacon was especially good, just the perfect balance of chewy and crispy. Will enjoyed it until he remembered certain things that made him swallow hard, and reach for his coffee to keep from choking.

"Is something amiss, darling?" Nigel asked, looking amused as he took a bite of his own bacon.

"The bacon…." Will made himself ask, keeping his eyes on his plate. "Is it…?"

Hannibal set down his silverware to focus all his attention upon Will, watching his reactions with keen maroon eyes. "It is unbecoming to ask questions you already know the answer too. You do us both a disservice by doing so." He stated, giving Will a severe look.

"Don't be such an asshole, Hannibal." Nigel interrupted, leaning into Will's space to press thin lips to his stubbly cheek. It made Will look over at him, reminded that he had an ally of sorts in this.

"Yes, the food is people." Nigel said, breaking off a piece of remaining bacon on Will's plate to place it to his lips. "So eat up. Someone died for this. Will you really let that life go to waste?"

Closing his eyes, Will opened his mouth, letting Nigel place the meat to his tongue like it were a communion wafer. A tainted blessing, one that made Will shudder as he chewed, forcing himself to swallow. For all the burden it carried, it just tasted like meat. Will found he could live with that. A glance over at Hannibal told Will volumes, his look worth more than a mere thousand words. There was a hunger there, almost feral in nature, enough so to bring out points of scarlet in Hannibal's eyes. It left Will between fear and arousal, wondering what Hannibal was actually hungry for.

"This kill. This crime scene I have to go to. It's not one of yours, is it?" Will said the words, feeling like they were coming from someone else. The salt of the bacon felt his mouth feeling too dry, leeching it barren of moisture or any further questions.

"No. It is not." Hannibal smiled, cool and wicked as a knife. It was one of the first real expression Will had ever seen Hannibal wear. The snake in his midst was no longer in hiding, its coils already well around Will, keeping his close.

It was frightening.

It was awing.

"I can't believe I'm having this kind of conversation with you…" Will admitted, avoiding eyes. His plate was empty and his belly full. Death in the forms of order and chaos sat on either side of him, and all Will could feel was content.

"What's a little blood between lovers?" Nigel smirked, picking up Will's hand to kiss the back of it.

"Aren't either of you worried that I, an FBI agent, might turn you in?" Though he asked the question to both of them, Will was looking straight at Hannibal, the killer he had been chasing. The one who had resided in his head for so long.

"No." Hannibal answered simply at first. He got up out of his seat to stand over Will, his large hands cupping either side of Will's face to tip it back. "Because you love us. We understand you. We accept you. We want you, and you feel the same."

Closing his eyes, Will accepted the kiss as truth placed to his lips. In a way, it felt like it sealed his fate. A bargain had been struck with devils, and now they were laying claim to his soul. Feeling other hands upon him and another pair of lips pressed to the nape of his neck grounded Will, made him give himself away freely to them. He wanted this. He needed this.

"I will drive you to your crime scene." Hannibal told him when they parted.

"Jack wants you there. To talk to the witnesses. He can't get a hold of Alana." Will informed him to see a fleeting look of impatience and annoyed anger pass through Hannibal's features.

"I see Jack had taken upon himself to fritter away my time as well then." Hannibal sighed. This killer had better be worth it this interruption. He had planned on exploring the new lands and their boundaries of this relationship at length, preferably in bed.

"I'd like to partake in the arts with you." It wasn't a request Will noted, watching as Nigel lit a cigarette and swallowed down the last of his coffee. Hannibal collected the plates off the table, leaving Will on his own to negotiate with the other twin. "Be nice to see what my darling does for a living when he's being called in on his days off and away from me."

"It's a public area." Will decided. He knew he would probably be unable to dissuade Nigel from coming with them, even if it meant waiting in the car. "You can come to this one, but you'll have to stay behind the tape."

The grin that Nigel gave him back did nothing to alleviate Will's trepidations.

"Whatever you say."

OoOoO

Much like Will, Jack was forced to do a double take upon first seeing the twins. Will leaving the car with not one, but two Lecters must have been disconcerting.

"Doctor Lecter." Jack addressed the one more formally dressed in a suit and lacking a tattoo on his neck while studying the other. "I'm glad Will brought you along. This one is a little more disturbing than others." The part where Will would need the extra emotional support went unsaid, but the implication was there glaringly obvious.

"It's no trouble at all." Hannibal lied with a smile., offering his slight upturn of lips to the world as the elegant change in his mask. Noting Jack's sight directed over his shoulder at his brother, Hannibal stepped to the side, motioning to his mirrored image. "My apologies, introductions are in order. Jack Crawford this is my brother, Nigel. Nigel, this is Agent Jack Crawford, head of the Behavioral Sciences at the FBI."

"Another Lecter. And here I thought they broke the mold when they made you, Doctor. Nice to meet you." Jack nodded, shaking hands with the very bad man from Bucharest.

"The pleasure is all mine." Nigel grinned, a mask of his own slipping in place as he took the other man's hand. Unlike Hannibal's own, it was roguishly charming, giving Nigel the air of an old drinking buddy or someone you could come to for help. Will made himself wander away before he did or said something unfortunate. "I've heard all about you from my brother."

Jack turned his attention from Nigel back to Hannibal with an amused look. "Only good things I hope?"

"Nothing but the best." Hannibal assured him, catching up with Will to lift the yellow tape to let first Will and then himself duck under. "We'll be back shortly, Nigel."

Tossing Bentley's car keys to his twin, Hannibal nodded to Nigel who saw it as the smug expression it was before disappearing behind a tarp that had been raised to shield the public from the gruesome details of the murder. That and the cameras of the morbidly curious and the blood thirsty

Stepped back to join the crowd, Nigel stood among the sheep that craned their necks and bleated in whispers among themselves about the child found skinned and hung from the monkey bars like a pig to the slaughter. With nothing to really look at except the back of people's head, Nigel debated with himself whether or not to go back to the car, or wander around a bit for a change in scenery.

He already knew it was going to be rough going tonight. Neither Hannibal or Nigel took cruelty to children well, and Will's psyche would be left scarred from it. This killer would be lucky if the FBI got to him first. Oh the great and terrible things they were going to do to this killer. It would be just like old times, when Hannibal and him took turns.

"Dr. Lecter, I thought you would have been behind the tarp with Will Graham." were the words that broke Nigel out of his revelry. Turning as he lit a smoke, Nigel came face to face with a red haired woman he recognized much to his surprise. Hannibal was an avid fan of hers and Tattlecrime, and had sent Nigel some of her articles about his activities. Nigel found her writing style too overdramatic for his tastes, but he knew Hannibal lived for that kind of shit.

Nigel smiled, slow and wicked. As useful as Hannibal may find her services, he already didn't like this woman. By keeping detailed tabs on the law enforcement and their investigations, Freddie Lounds was valuable in her own way, but she'd written one too many nasty pieces about his darling for Nigel to find her presence pleasant.

"Not Hannibal." Nigel corrected with ease, taking a drag from his smoke as he regarded the woman with a cool smile. She knew he wasn't Hannibal, was too smart for that bullshit with the big ass tattoo on his neck. No, she was playing dumb for some reason. "Nigel. I'm the better looking brother."

"My apologies. You look so much alike. You must be twins." Freddie smiled as fake as a tinsel Christmas tree, offering her hand in a friendly gesture, "My name is Freddie, I'm a friend of your brother and Will Graham."

Lies, lies, lies. Nigel's smile only broadened, taking the hand offered to him.
"Nice to meet you, Freddie." He lied right back and did a better job of it. He threw a thumb over his shoulder in a dismissive gesture, indicating the sectioned off area behind them. "You were right with your first guess though, if you're looking for Hanni. He's hiding behind the tarp with Will." Blowing out some smoke and not really caring where went or who it offended, he tilted his head to consider her. "Something you need from my brother or is this just a friendly hello? I could always give him a message for you. He's probably not going to be up to answering his phone later today."

Shrugging like she didn't have a care in the world, Freddie smiled back all sweetness and charm, despite the smoke that made her wrinkle her nose in distaste. "Just wanted to say 'hi' I suppose. See how he and Will were doing." She bit her lip, playing coy as she leaned in a little closer as though to whisper secretes. Nigel encouraged her by returning the gesture. "Hey, would you mind if I asked you a question?"

Nigel could already tell this was going to be good. "Sure thing."

"Hannibal and Will…they're pretty close, aren't they? I know Hannibal is busy with work, and I would be lying if I said I wasn't too. We haven't had much of a chance to catch up lately with one another, but…" She trailed off, dropping her voice a little lower, eyes taking in Nigel entirely with all the intent in the world to read his reaction for lies and truths to get some extra dirt for her story. "Are they officially seeing each other now? I hate to pry. I just want to know that he's happy."

Bingo. A question like that could easily ruin both men. Clever wording and misdirection could destroy Hannibal's career as a psychiatrist and run Will into the ground with too much exposure. Glanced from the woman to the tarps, Nigel took his time taking another drag from his smoke before regarding her again.

"It's complicated." Nigel answered honestly enough. "You're a friend of theirs, right? Come back with me to the house for a coffee then, and I'll catch you up. They're going to be a while, and no doubt you are already as bored as I am."

OoOoO

The drive back was a quick one, Nigel and Freddie standing soon enough in Hannibal's kitchen, the latter watching the former navigating the ins and outs of Hannibal's ridiculously complicated coffee maker.

"So where are you from?" Freddie asked, keeping up with her friendly persona. She was dying to rubberneck and take pictures. Hannibal's house of a strange blend of culture and the bizarre with too many animals skulls on display to make her feel comfortable. It felt more like she was entering into a mausoleum with all its marble, dark wood, and bone than a home.

"Mmmmm…A little here, a little there, a little everywhere. I get around." Nigel answered without really doing so, but that was the point. He played around with the coffee maker some more, the noises of it becoming natural to hear and the perfect cover for him to open drawers and take out certain items he needed from them. "We separated when our interests and unique skill sets caused us to grow apart. You've probably never even heard of me in passing conversation. We've never been one to talk about family."

Smiling at Freddie crooked and not nearly as nice as the ones he'd been sharing back at the park, Nigel let the edges of his own mask start to lift away. He'd never been one to hide himself for long, much preferring to let people know that the lion was in the room so they stayed the hell out of his way.

"You're right about that. He hasn't, which I find very odd considering that you're obviously twins." Freddie smiled with a shrug, trying to come off as casual and above all, relaxed. Something was off about Nigel, her instincts telling her that now would be the opportune time to start running, but she wasn't about give up possibility one of the best sources ever for some dirt on the infamous Will Graham. The risk was well worth the payoff, or so she kept telling herself. "They say that twins generally care a little more for each other than regular siblings, and Will Graham is cause for concern."

Nodding as if in agreement, Nigel let Freddie dig herself in deeper. He had a pretty good idea where she was going to take this, but still wanted to hear her say it aloud, to confirm and condemn herself. "So am I to understand that you are asking about Hanni and Will because you are worried about my brother's welfare?" he said. "Please don't leave me in suspense. I only wish the best for Hannibal. Tell me your thoughts on Will."

"How well do you know him?" Freddie ventured, watching as Nigel pulled the leather chair out of its corner by the stairs to push it into the kitchen.

"I've met him a few times. Nice kid. Needs a haircut and a shave, but other than that seems on the up and up." Nigel said, leaving the chair where it was in the middle of everything without explanation. He went back to the coffee to fiddle around with the cups. He wasn't about to give this woman anything hot to throw at him.

"And how would you describe Hannibal's relationship with Will? Like you, I only want to look out for Hannibal. Unfortunately, Will Graham is not a sane man. He's dangerous." Freddie said, making worry bleed from her pores. It made Nigel almost want to applaud her performance.

"I know all about dangerous men, and Will doesn't even fucking register." Nigel said flatly, watching as a light went off behind Freddie's clever blue eyes. "You are right about one thing though. Hanni and I do keep in close contact. If I had any concerns about my brother, I sure as shit wouldn't be sharing them with someone like you."

"Someone like me?" Freddie raised a well shaped brow even as her voice faltered at the end. Her hand was already in her purse, searching for her phone. She had the FBI and emergency services on speed dial.

"My brother's a fan of your work, Ms. Lounds, and has sent me the link to your web page. You're good…" Nigel said, stalking forward even as Freddie stumbled back, giving up on her phone to go for the gun she kept now in her purse. "…But I don't like what you've been fucking writing about my darling."

"People know where I am." Freddie said, quickly giving up all pretext of being friendly. Her purse was coming up too empty with anything useful. She would have to fall back on her words for protection.

"Oh do they? Do you really think anyone is going to remember a quiet, pleasant conversation between two people with a murder scene to gawk at?" Nigel pointed out with a smirk as he reached behind to show Freddie what he'd had with him since the car ride.

"Ah. Those would be those 'unique' skill sets you were talking about earlier." Freddie said dryly upon seeing her phone and gun in Nigel's hands to be tucked back into his pocket and belt for safe keeping.

"Indeed. You should really quit carrying around such big purses. Just about anyone can get their hand into them without really trying." Nigel said.

"I'll keep that in mind. I don't suppose I could have those back?" Freddie said, licking her lips nervously.

"In a moment. We are discussing the topic of Will Graham. That deserves both our full and undivided attention." Nigel said, patting the back of the chair. "It would be in your best interest to sit down, Ms. Lounds, and not piss me off."

"Are you his lover? You really should stay clear of him. You could do better." Freddie did as she as told, but stuck to her guns. She tentatively watched as Nigel moved around to settle behind her. She didn't feel that her life was in danger, not even when he tied her hands together behind the chair. She could read that much from the man. He was dangerous, but he wasn't stupid. Ruining someone bloody in Hannibal's kitchen would be stupid. "But then again, maybe you two would be good for each other."

"Because you think he's crazy?" Nigel smiled. It was dark and wrong and all teeth as let his fingers dig into tight red curls, making Freddie wince from his grip. "Will is complicated, not crazy. Just because it's something you don't understand doesn't make it fucking wrong."

Freddie took a breath, slow and steady to fake the bravery she didn't have. Little did she know that Nigel could smell the fear on her, sour as vinegar. "And are you misunderstood?"

"Oh no, I'm wrong in all the best ways." Nigel murmured sweetly into her ear as he took out his surprise from his pocket to glide the cool steel over her skin. He let the scissors edge along the soft flesh of her cheek so that she could catch a glimpse of the implement, and get an idea of what he was about to do to her. Locks of fiery hairy made soft sounds as they hit the tile, the noise of the scissors cutting through almost silken in tone.

"My hair!" Freddie yelped as Nigel leaned over her to snip away another chunk of curls.

"I think that you should look just as ugly on the outside as what you do on the inside." Nigel mused. Freddie watched from the sides of her eyes, wide in horror as handful after handful fell all around her. Nigel took his time, trimming the curls as close to her skull as he could while leaving other random thick chucks of curls in pristine condition. He would make it a lost cause, to such an extent she would be forced to shave her own head.

"Why are you doing this?" Freddie said in a tight voice, flinching as more of her hair fell in pieces all around her in uneven lengths.

"I'm making a point. This time, your gorgeous fucking hair, but next time? Next time, I'm thinking it will be that beautiful pale skin of yours. I think I'll cut out patches from it. Little, tender pieces from your thighs, breasts, back, and face like a fucking quilt." He snipped the scissors twice next to her ear, sending the message home. She doesn't move, letting her eyes slide smooth and slow to the side to face the scissors before they were pulled away. They were used one last time to cut her bindings, Nigel stepping back to allow her to get up and view his handiwork.

"I could always call the police." Freddie said stiffly as she stood up to face him. She didn't give him the pleasure of her reaching for her hair, though she wanted to paw at the bald spots where lush red curls had hung just moments before.

"No, you won't." Nigel shot back, tossing the scissors over his shoulder in favor of busying his hands with a smoke. "You're smarter than that, but you know what you will do? You're going to make a deal with me."

"And why would I do that?" Freddie snapped. She was intrigued, despite her temper.

"Because you're smart. Because you're going to do your research about me when you leave here, and you're going to find out that I am not a person to fuck around with. That I could make you disappear with a thought and one phone call." Nigel smiled, blowing out silvery blue smoke at her. His throat still stung from the night before, but in a good way he liked. "Someone will always be keeping an eye on you after this, Ms. Lounds. So much as one ill word about my darling gets published by you, and I fucking swear, you will never see it coming. You'll feel every minute of it though."

"So what's this deal you mentioned? I keep failing to hear anything that might benefit me other than getting to keep my hair and skin intact." Freddie said, leveling a look at Nigel who grinned at her back. She was a vicious thing, but clever.

"If you can behave, I promise you'll be able to go into any unseemly place full of unseemly people with protection." Nigel said. "Don't you ever get tired of serial killers kidnapping you or setting you up?"

"Followed or watched?" Freddie ventured, chewing her bottom lip. Being a woman had its advantages. It also had some distinct disadvantages. Someone watching her back with no other agenda but that could be useful to her.

"You'll never know. You'll take my offer, and stay away from my darling and our business. I'll make it well worth your time." Nigel shrugged. He wasn't going to offer the deal again. He knew it. Freddie knew it.

"Are you offering me a guardian angel, or a devil for my shoulder?" Freddie asked, checking the horse's teeth she had no say in buying.

"Call it what you want. It's your key into places you want to go." Nigel told her as he pulled her phone from his pocket. While she was busy catching it, he unloaded the gun, pocketing the shells before handing it back to her. "It's a done deal."

"Now get the fuck out."

OoOoO

"Where did he go?"

Will frowned as he looked around the aftermath of the crime scene, the agents and police finally departing from it. The killer had been sloppy, leaving behind a wealth of evidence. With Will's insightful profile and the team's findings, Jack was already sending agents and local law enforcement to collect their person of interest. Will's presence wasn't necessarily needed for that bit, so Hannibal made it a point to tell Jack that Will was done for the day, and as far as he was concerned, the rest of the next week as well.

"Nigel is an extremely impatient man." Hannibal sighed as he retrieved his phone, sending out a quick text from it. He was not pleased to find his car gone. He wanted to get Will home while he was still quite vulnerable and more open to suggestion. That and Nigel was a terrible driver. There would be blood if the Bentley had any scratches on it or cigarette burns or ash in it.

"He doesn't come off as one." Will said, taking a seat on a nearby bench. He was wiped, feeling sick and filthy from looking in places he'd rather not go. Pedophiles made him want to scrub his own skin off with steel wool until it bled.

"You are simply the exception to his impatience." Hannibal said, gracing Will with a slight smile before returning his attention to his phone. The answer to his inquiry was quick yet informative, the doctor reading it with a look of growing mirth.

"Nigel is home." Hannibal said as darkness danced in the corners of his eyes. It made Will uneasy. "He'll come for us as soon as he's done with some housework."

"Housework? What do you mean housework?" Will frowned. That could mean a world of possibilities. He didn't know if he was ready to see either of his lovers cleaning up blood just yet. He was dating a couple of killers, but that didn't mean he was ready for a front row seat.

"Just some sweeping."

OoOoO

TBC