Fortune's Fool (Hannibal Fanfiction)

XIV: To the Carnival

Somehow, what Hannibal suggested must have worked, because Will felt a little better when he woke up the next morning. He finished the cold leftovers from the night before and then sat at his hotel desk, spreading the case files out in front of him. He lined them up in order: the bloody remains of Kennedy, hacked to death with an ax; the strangled body of Harrington, left tied up in the woods; and the half-dissolved remains of Pfeiffer, drowned and propped up in the bath. There was something about having all the photos together that helped him find the necessary patterns to put a killer's mindset together.

Will was so absorbed with the case files that he started when Hannibal knocked on their connecting door. Judging by the sun streaming through the hotel curtains and the stiffness that had settled in his limbs, he had been studying the photos for at least a few hours. Will scrubbed a hand over his beard, let out a breath, and stood up to unlock the door.

Hannibal was dressed in another one of his three-piece suits, this one a light gray pinstripe with a pale teal tie and matching pocket square.

"You do realize we're not going anywhere fancy, right?" Will said dryly as he wandered back towards his desk.

Hannibal's lips twitched in amusement. "I'm aware. Are you ready for lunch?"

Will touched the crime scene photo nearest him absentmindedly, which was of the blood splatters across Kennedy's kitchen table. "Yeah, what time is it?"

"Half past noon."

Will nodded and then rearranged the photos and put them back in their files, not wanting to traumatize the poor hotel worker who might come in to tidy up his room while they were gone. Once he was sure that everything was out of sight and he had everything he needed for the day, the men headed out.

Lunchtime was Will's opportunity to pick where they ate, so he picked another casual New Orleans-style restaurant, this time in the bustling French quarter. Hannibal looked slightly less out of place than he had the day before, but that wasn't saying much. The venue then had been a tiny fast food place where they sat at a sticky, round table on spindly bar stools by the window. This place was larger, cleaner, and offered more seating options, but still casual, with brick and wood paneling and music playing somewhere over their heads. There was also a bar. Around the bar, flat-screen TVs were set to various sports channels, none of which were particularly entertaining, given the time of day: sports talk shows arguing about hypotheticals, a rugby match from Ireland, and highlights from a golf tournament from the weekend before.

To Will's relief, they were shown to a table away from the bar, out of sight of the television sets, and with enough natural light coming through the windows to make the place seem open and well-lit — not for his sake, obviously, but for Hannibal's. Will couldn't care less where they were seated as long as the food was delicious. He thought that he might've been here once before, long ago, and if he was remembering correctly, then they would not be disappointed. Some of the best jambalaya he had ever had in his life had been from otherwise unassuming restaurants in New Orleans, like this one.

Their waitress was in her early twenties, freckled, pale, and chubby, with flat purple hair pulled back in a ponytail and a nose piercing that glinted when the light hit it just right. Will usually tried to tune out other people's emotions, but he couldn't help but notice how she clocked his faint Louisiana drawl versus Hannibal's thick Lithuanian accent. He could practically hear the gears turning in her head as she tried to figure out how they fit together. It was a relief when she took their drink orders and left.

"Have you been here before?" Hannibal flipped over his menu, his forehead creased subtly between his eyebrows.

"Once or twice, I think." Will shrugged and picked up his menu. Seeing Hannibal out of his element always gave him a boost in confidence, and he was feeling that boost currently. "If I recall correctly, their jambalaya is one of the best in New Orleans." When Hannibal merely hummed in reply, Will glanced up and saw that he was still faintly frowning at his menu. "Should I order for you?" Will asked wryly.