'' Repeating History ''

'' Open Case ''

     "You're certain they're ready for the field, Doctor Lecter?"

It had been two weeks since Agent Carter and Bowie had last spoken. Had last argued. Carter hadn't even seen Bowie since dropping them off at their apartment and had no idea of how they were doing. Swamped with cases and up to his ears in paperwork. He hadn't had the time to go and check on Bowie, nor had the thought once to call them.

"I assure you, they're doing quite well. Their therapy is going smoothly and I think you'll find they've almost become an entirely different person since you last saw them," spoke the smooth-voiced doctor as he followed behind the frantically moving FBI agent.

He'd come to discuss Bowie's return to work with Agent Carter, and wouldn't relent in spite of the man's business. He almost enjoyed annoying the agent, and boy was Carter annoyed.
"That's great, really. But I'm busy," he says in a snappish tone, waving around a handful of paperwork.
"I can see that, and I feel it may be in your best interest as well as Bowie's to bring them back. If not for field work right away, then at least to help you with all of the paperwork you have," Hannibal continues.

Carter stops in the middle of the hallway, turning and looking up at Hannibal with slightly narrowed eyes, a defeated and tired look in his eyes.
"They're not going to want that, Doctor."
"No, but they need that structure in their life. Besides, I'm sure you miss them, don't you?"
Carter is silent for a moment, but then sighs, checking his watch. It was only eleven in the morning. Hannibal had made a point of coming in early so as to not interfere with his own work schedule.

"Alright. Tell them to come in at one, and bring coffee," the exasperated detective says, turning and walking off again, nearly bumping into other agents who were waiting for him to move out of the way.

Hannibal frowned. He didn't particularly like Agent Carter. At first, Hannibal was reasonably indifferent to the man, but the more they interacted the less indifferent he became, and the more annoyed he became with Carter. He'd known that there were some power issues with the man from the start, but it was becoming more apparent over time that it went beyond a little power trip. Especially when he was stressed. Hannibal could see the narcissism that Carter did his best to mask, but just couldn't do an excellent job of.

Hannibal left the premises soon after his conversation with the agent had ended, and made his way to Bowie's apartment. He had convinced Bowie to keep a little money for themselves, enough to have some luxuries and still have money left over after everything to send to their mother, so they had a working phone number now, but he still preferred coming to see them in person.

Bowie was just getting out of the shower when they heard the knock on their door. They had an idea of who it was, given the fact that rarely anyone but Hannibal came to their door. Usually, some neighbors' kids asking for food or money. Bowie could hardly afford to oblige, but they always did.
"It's open!" they called out, honestly surprised Hannibal hadn't just let himself in already. He normally did, but sometimes, usually in the mornings and later at night, he would knock first and wait for Bowie to answer. They figured he did this out of courtesy and just due to their sleep schedule.

They hear the door open as they walk into their bedroom, pushing the door mostly shut behind them so they can get dressed.
Hannibal approached the door but simply stood outside of it.
"I'm glad I chose to knock. Is that a new body wash, detective?" Hannibal asks curiously.
Bowie rolls their eyes and hums to themselves. "Yeah, it is. Why?"
"It's nice. It suits you."

Bowie thought about that for a moment with a furrowed brow. They were a bit clueless at times, but they weren't ignorant of the increasing number of compliments and lengthy sidelong glances the psychiatrist had been giving them over the last two weeks. While they could have easily just written it off as part of his usual strange, flirtatious behavior, something about it seemed different to them.

"Uhm. Thanks, I guess," they finally murmured from within their room. Halfway through pulling on a pair of boxer briefs.
"What did you need, by the way? You never come to see me in the morning unless you need something."
They weren't wrong. Hannibal rarely if ever came to see them in the mornings unless he needed something from them, or had something for them. Usually food. They'd asked him to stop feeding them on several occasions, but they couldn't say they didn't enjoy the company, let alone the food.