Fortune's Fool (Hannibal Fanfiction)

X: Elizabeth Pfeiffer

Luckily for Will (especially since the last thing he needed right now was to break down and snap at Jack), the third and final crime scene was much clearer than the last. But before they visited it, Hannibal insisted that they get something to eat. Wary of a repeat of the night before, Will agreed, but only if he got to choose the restaurant. Hannibal acquiesced.

Will drove them to a small, Creole-style hole in the wall in the Lower Ninth Ward that had glowing reviews online. If Hannibal had any objections, he kept them to himself, even though this time, he was the one who looked out of place in his three-piece suit. A petty part of Will derived amusement from it. Will ordered seafood gumbo, while Hannibal hesitantly selected a sweet and sour shrimp platter.

The service was quick and the food delicious: rich, well-seasoned, spicy enough to leave the mouth burning a little, and cheap to boot. It boosted Will's mood, at least temporarily, and distracted him from how ill he'd been feeling. He was content enough that he was halfway through his meal before he realized that Hannibal was pausing between every bite to drink water and had refilled his glass once already.

His lips twitched with the beginning of a smirk. "Having a little trouble?"

Hannibal looked like a cat who had been caught in a clumsy act instead of landing on its feet. "I am not accustomed to eating spicy food," he said stiffly.

"Is it that bad?" Will reached over and snagged a shrimp from Hannibal's plate before he could protest. It was a mouthwatering combination of sweet and sour with a tiny bit of kick, but it wasn't even close to being genuinely spicy. A grin spread across his face so wide that his muscles threatened to ache. "I hate to break it to you, but that's not spicy."

Hannibal looked mildly piqued. Without thinking, Will fumbled for his spoon and scooped up a small representative spoonful of his gumbo.

"Here, try this. This is spicy."

He held the spoonful out. It wasn't until Hannibal leaned forward slightly, dark eyes locked with his, and put his lips carefully around the spoon that it hit Will how his action could be taken. He swallowed and tried not to stare. He was suddenly hyper-aware of the shape and fullness of Hannibal's lips, as well as the heat pooling in his stomach that he swore had not been there a moment ago.

Hannibal pulled away, swallowed, and licked his lips. Then the moment was broken when he abruptly coughed and reached for his water.

"That is much spicier, yes." He sounded strained, gulping down the rest of his glass and reaching for the water pitcher to refill it.

Will felt his smile return, albeit with a touch of awkwardness. "Should I ask if they have any milk?" he said dryly.

Hannibal waved it away, although he looked slightly pained. "No, no, there's no need."

Will nodded and set his spoon back in his gumbo. The men finished the rest of their meal in silence.

~ ~ ~

After their late lunch, they drove to the third and final crime scene. It was located in Gretna, separated from uptown New Orleans by the Mississippi. With half the land area but about the same population as Chalmette, Gretna was more diverse and slightly more urban than its neighbor, as well as noticeably poorer. Will had a feeling that the previous victim would turn her nose up at this city, though he couldn't yet pinpoint why.

They took Route 90 into downtown Gretna, where the victim's townhouse was. Will was struck again by how much Hurricane Katrina had devastated the area. What was once a thriving part of the New Orleans metropolis now sported rundown buildings and the occasional empty grass or mud lot.