|
Post by Dr. Fell on Apr 9, 2007 21:44:16 GMT -5
*Hannibal set out the finest china and crystal. The smells from the kitchen were delightful. He hummed quietly to himself as he worked on the final preparations. Everything had to go perfectly tonight, he didn't want to risk seeing Agent Bristow again so soon.*
|
|
|
Post by Thatcher on Apr 9, 2007 21:49:11 GMT -5
*Thatcher had found the address with little difficulty and rang the bell at the front door.*
|
|
|
Post by Dr. Fell on Apr 9, 2007 21:51:18 GMT -5
*Hannibal quickly pulled off his apron and jogged to the door. He opened it with a polite smile.*
“Good evening, monsieur. I hope it finds you well. Won’t you come in?”
*He stood to the side to let Thatcher enter.*
|
|
|
Post by Thatcher on Apr 9, 2007 21:53:23 GMT -5
"Doctor Lecter," *Thatcher bowed shortly.* "A pleasure, I'm sure. Thank you," *he said, stepping inside.* "I hope you don't mind--I wasn't certain of your tastes..." *he handed Lecter an expensive-looking bottle.* "But I find a nice Chianti always goes down well."
|
|
|
Post by Dr. Fell on Apr 9, 2007 21:56:48 GMT -5
*Hannibal took the bottle and inspected it with a smile.*
“It’s perfect, thank you sir. Please have a seat.”
*He gestured to the dining room.*
“Can I take your coat?”
|
|
|
Post by Thatcher on Apr 9, 2007 21:58:12 GMT -5
"Again, thank you," *said Thatcher, shrugging out of the long overcoat and settling his dinner jacket back into smooth lines along his broad shoulders. He moved to the dining room but did not sit, waiting for his host.*
|
|
|
Post by Dr. Fell on Apr 9, 2007 22:01:15 GMT -5
*Hannibal took the coat and hung it carefully in the closet by the door. He followed Thatcher into the dining room where most of the luscious feast was already on display. He went through the room to the kitchen on the far side, looking back for a moment.*
“Please. I’ll be right there. I just need to get the roast.”
*He smiled and gave a slight nod, assuring Thatcher it was all right to sit.*
|
|
|
Post by Thatcher on Apr 9, 2007 22:03:11 GMT -5
*Thatcher nodded shortly and took a seat. Although the table was set with fine china and crystal, he couldn't help but sneer inwardly at the informality.*
What kind of doctor can't even afford to hire out a servant or two for an evening of business dealings?
|
|
|
Post by Dr. Fell on Apr 9, 2007 22:08:32 GMT -5
*Hannibal returned carrying a succulent roast, beautifully plated. He set it in the center of the table. He smiled politely to Thatcher as he picked up the carving set.*
“Do you mind if I serve you before we begin? I fear that it will spoil the flavor if it gets cold.”
|
|
|
Post by Thatcher on Apr 9, 2007 22:11:05 GMT -5
*Thatcher inclined his head.*
"As you see fit, sir. It looks wonderfully done, considering."
|
|
|
Post by Dr. Fell on Apr 9, 2007 22:12:43 GMT -5
*Hannibal’s brow rose at the word.*
“Considering, sir?”
*He cut into the meat, juices pouring from it invitingly.*
|
|
|
Post by Thatcher on Apr 9, 2007 22:14:52 GMT -5
"Well, your station and sex, of course. I've not come across many men who have shewn any interest or connexion to the more domestic arts."
And those I have were sodomizing, mealy-mouthed halfwits.
|
|
|
Post by Dr. Fell on Apr 9, 2007 22:19:33 GMT -5
*Hannibal sighed slightly and nodded.*
“So I see. I find that the culinary arts are a delicacy that can not be risked by the hands of the untrained. I have not had the time to sample the works of local chefs that might be afforded me.”
*He plated the beef.*
“I do hope that the simple fact that I made it won’t put you off your stomach too much.”
*He offered a small smile.*
|
|
|
Post by Thatcher on Apr 9, 2007 22:21:31 GMT -5
"Certainly not, sir," *said Thatcher, his demeanour polite, if a little wary.*
"One must know everything before venturing a judgement."
|
|
|
Post by Dr. Fell on Apr 9, 2007 22:26:14 GMT -5
*Hannibal plated a serving for himself and sat. He poured them both wine and raised his glass.*
“One truly must. In that case, bon appetite.”
*He smiled, knowing that the wine would make Thatcher much more…complacent. If it didn’t knock him out completely. He hoped that if Thatcher had known the lengths that Hannibal had gone to so he might find a sedative that had a counteragent he could take beforehand; he would have appreciated the effort. Hannibal sipped his wine pleasantly.*
|
|