Chapter Text
“Ms. Lounds-”
“Freddie,” she said and sat down across from Jack Crawford at the interview desk. The interrogation room was stark, but it didn’t seem to bother her at all. “Friends call Freddie.”
“Ms. Lounds, please-”
“Ouch, I’m hurt. Here I thought we were besties,” Freddie said and fake clutched her heart. “The least you could’ve done was have the decency to talk to me up in your office.”
“This will have to do,” Jack said.
“I know I’m not arrested because you would be violating all sorts of rights if I was. Why am I here again?”
“We’re having a conversation,” Jack said. “Before we start, can you please hand over your recording device.”
“I’m not sure I like this conversation,” Freddie said. “I gave that to the security guard.”
“Your other recording device,” Jack insisted. “And please shut your cell phone off and place it face down on the table. We will detect if you are recording this conversation via any other means.”
“You’re no fun,” Freddie said with a little pout, but produced a small bug out of her bra and turned off her cell phone. She laid both on the table. “Happy now?”
“Thank you for complying, Ms. Lounds. Your story-”
“Oh, I just knew you were a faithful reader of TattleCrime.com, but confirmation is always gratifying,” Freddie said. “Which feature is your favourite?”
Jack held the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, sighing through clenched teeth.
“None,” Jack said. “You know which one we need to discuss.”
“The one with guy who keeps feet as trophies and likes to suck on the mummified toes?”
“No,” Jack said. “Please don’t make this anymore painful than it needs to be.”
Freddie pursed her lips. “Right, right. Too bad. The readers loved that one. You must mean that freak with the trained rats-“
“‘Ms. Lounds, this isn’t a game,” Jack said.
Freddie smiled her fake smile and said, “I honestly don’t know which of my spectacularly written stories you could possibly be talking about.”
Jack turned his computer screen and tapped the flashing headline of ‘Murder Husband Hunt Sickos’.
“Oh, Murder Husbands!” Freddie all but squealed. “One of our best click bait ever. Excellent choice. Great series of stories. They’re fascinating, aren’t they?”
“The information in your most recent article wasn’t available to the public,” Jack said. “We’re here to discuss your source.”
“The psychological profile was so intriguing. Dr. Bloom is quite articulate and no, I’m not giving up my source,” Freddie said. “Freedom of the press and all that.”
“Ms. Lounds, you’re obstructing justice and tipping off dangerous-”
“Serial killers who target other serial killers,” Freddie said. “Who am I alerting, the sickos? The Murder Husbands aren’t exactly subtle. Cute name, don’t you think? Murder Husbands is so catchy and I hope they like it.”
“I am not confirming either gender or the number of suspects,” Jack said.
“It’s two men and we both know it. Two very much in love men. My readers are eating their antics and dynamic up. Killers in love. A dark epic love story.... apex predators mated for life. These guys are like the megladon sharks snacking on great whites. It’s so romantic. Shakespeare would have written a play about it.”
“You’re no Shakespeare, Ms. Lounds,” Jack said. “Which brings us back to why you’re here. Stop glorifying these murders.”
After a brief pause Freddie taped her chin with her finger.
“Mmm, no,” Freddie. “Remind me again why we’re trying to catch these guys?”
“Murder is murder,” Jack said.
“Is it really though?” Freddie said. “They’ve elevated this to art. They’re displaying their serial killer kills as a warning to other monsters. For each of their kills the authorities have established the ‘victims’ were monsters. They’re stalking and killing other serial killers all over the country, maybe the world, and it looks like they’ve been doing it for years.”
“Vigilantes are still murderers.”
“Maybe,” Freddie said and shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe not. Aren’t they doing you a favour?”
“No. We catch murderers. End of story,” Jack said. He was taping his pen on the table top. “You’re putting yourself in danger.”
“I’m a lot of things, but the last time I checked I’m not a serial killer,” Freddie said. “I’m not their usual target practise. Shall we discuss Dr. Bloom’s profile further? The profile says two highly educated caucasian males in a co-dependent, sexual relationship. I hope they’re hot. I thought it was interesting she couldn’t decide on a label of sociopath or psychopath... she’s not exactly sure what that they are and that’s fascinating. They’re highly intelligent, like omnibus intellect level. They mostly likely share a folie à deux delusion and have access to substantial recourses. What is one’s weakness is the other’s strength - they balance each other out. One of them has a delightful, morose sense of humour.”
“You added the last one,” Jack said.
“I did,” Freddie agreed and pulled out crime scene photos from her purse, tossing them onto Jack’s desk. “Don’t worry. I have digital copies. Take a look at those and tell me one of the Murder Husbands doesn’t have a wicked sense of humour. Sure there’s all the higher level meta shit with drama, but that’s dark humour at its best. After what that monster did to his victims, others would say its justified.”
Jack scowled. “Where did you get-”
“That is neither here nor there,” Freddie said. “They sell and should be up on my site by now. Before you bring up my source again, I’d love you to have my lawyer’s card. Kaspische?”
Freddie took out a stark white business card from her satchel and tossed it in on the table.
“Go away, Ms. Lounds,” Jack said.
“Can I quote you on that?”
<><><><><><>
“You two are adorable,” Alana said with a laugh. She was sitting at an immaculately and elaborately set dining room table in Will and Hannibal’s recently purchased home.
“We have been called much worse things,” Will said, sitting across from Alana.
“Indeed,” Hannibal agreed. Hannibal was dressed impeccably in tones of blue that matched the evening’s decor.
“So how did you two met?” she asked. “College?”
Will exchanged a brief glance with Hannibal who gave him a minute nod. Hannibal was up and refilling their wine glasses.
“Long story short,” Will said. “We were high school sweethearts.”
“Now that I wasn’t expecting,” Alana said and smiled.
“Makes for a good story, though,” Will said and sipped his red wine. “Doesn’t it?”
“So, it’s not true?” Alana asked.
“Oh, it’s true,” Hannibal added, setting a freshly opened microbrewery beer in front Alana. “We met at one of the country’s foremost boarding schools. My uncle sent me there from abroad to learn English.”
“I was the resident charity case,” Will said.
“He was there on a scholarship because he was and remains captivatingly brilliant,” Hannibal corrected.
“Hannibal is bias,” Will said.
“I am.” Hannibal sat down in the chair next to Will’s. Their legs touched and Hannibal reached out to lay his hand over Will’s, intertwining their fingers.
“Hannibal and I came from different worlds, but we clicked. Opposites attract and all that. I was on scholarship because my dad was their school custodian and died on the job,” Will said. “That’s how someone like me ended up an elite boarding school with someone like Hannibal.”
Hannibal made a displeased sound.
“Will’s self-depreciation is not one of his best qualities,” Hannibal said. “He was the only equal and friend I had there.”
“Did you share a dorm room?” Alana asked. “If I’m getting too personal just tell me.”
“Only because no one else would share with a foreigner,” Hannibal said.
“Now who’s been self-depreciating?” Will asked. “Hannibal didn’t mind being friends with a freak.”
“Will...” Hannibal said in a warning tone.
“Sorry, social outcast,” Will corrected. “I was the weird, gay kid.”
“It couldn’t have been easy for you,” Alana said.
Will’s face darkened for a minute, but Hannibal squeezed his hand.
“What matters is we found each other,” Hannibal said. “Cliche as it may be, but it was love at first sight.”
“Hannibal didn’t mention that the first time he saw me I was getting into a scrap with other kids-”
“Bullies,” Hannibal said. “I do detest such ill-mannered swine. Will was surrounded by a group of-”
“I was getting an ass whooping by a group of homophobic older boys for being mouthy,” Will said with a soft chuckle as if it was a fond memory. “Hannibal came to my defence.”
“He was holding his own,” Hannibal said. “He was small for his age,
but managed to take down two of them. I merely intervened in an unfair fight.”
“Your first date was a teenage brawl?” Alana asked. “That’s sort of romantic.”
“It almost got me expelled on my first day of at the school if my uncle hadn’t intervened,” Hannibal said.
“Hannibal has had my back since day one,” Will said.
Hannibal lifted Will’s hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it. “And I always shall, mylimasis.”
“A true love story, then,” Alana said. “You haven’t dated anyone else?”
“No,” Hannibal said. “Nor have we ever had the desire to do so.”
“What brings you to our fair city, again?” Alana asked.
“Career opportunity,” Will answered. “Hannibal is a surgeon and there was an excellent opportunity at a local hospital.”
“If I didn’t know he was in medicine, I’d swear he was a chef after tonight’s incredible meal. What do you for a living, Will?” Alana asked.
“I’m a graphic designer. It let’s me work from home and keep my own hours,” Will said. “We move ever few years for Hannibal’s career. I don’t mind. He helps so many people. I’m content with my scribbles.”
“Will is being modest,” Hannibal said. “He is a true artist and he does work in other mediums. Exquisite works of art.”
“I would love to see them,” Alana said.
Will and Hannibal exchange a shared look.
“Maybe some day,” Will said. “For now I like to keep my creations private.”
“That’s okay.”
“Sorry for being awkward, Alana,” Will said. “I don’t do people very well.”
“I’m glad we met,” Alana said. “A happy coincidence we met at the farmer’s market.”
Hannibal smiled. “Yes, a happy coincidence indeed.”
“Will, if you don’t mind me saying,” Alana said. “You’re very different now, than in public. Hannibal did most of the talking when we first met and I am pleasantly surprised and happy that you’re comfortable enough to relax around me.”
“Will finds large crowds difficult,” Hannibal said.
“That’s putting it mildly,” Will muttered. “I’d be a hermit if it wasn’t for Hannibal. Usually he’s the only company I need other than the dogs.”
Will saw the look Alana gave him. It was the look of the psychiatrist analyzing him and Hannibal laid a calming hand into his thigh. Hannibal gave Will a calming squeeze. Will avoided Alana’s gaze by glancing down.
“Oh,” Alana said, having the grace to realize her faux pas. “Excuse me. Sometimes I have trouble shutting it off. I’m very sorry.”
Will kept glancing down and Hannibal suggested, “Perhaps now is an apt time for dessert? I made black cake. It’s one of Will’s favourites.”
“Yes, please. That is one of the best meals I have ever had,” Alana said. “I appreciate it very much.”
Hannibal slightly inclined his head to acknowledge the compliment and manners.
Alana held up her beer bottle. “A toast to... new beginnings, wonderful hosts and new friendships.”
Will and Hannibal picked up their glasses and clinked them first with each other and then with Alana.
“How delightful,” Hannibal said. “To new friendships.”