The microwave buttons beep a flat counterpoint to Neph's sudden ringing laughter. "I don't even know what that means!" she slaps a hand against the counter and covers her eyes with the other. Ignominy. If Will hadn't said it like it was a for real word, she'd've called bullshit. To Hannibal and his disparaging sigh, she asks, "Where'd you read that one?"
What else do they have that's ready-edible? Much as he bitches, Hannibal doesn't restrict her shopping habits. It's Neph herself who holds back from buying All The Seasonal Oreos. Old habits die hard, and old habits dictate non-perishables and coupon clipping. Cookies were for shoplifting. Rice, beans, bread, peanut butter, jelly, pasta and cans of sauce or veggies, all the stuff that didn't need a fridge for storing or anything more than a hotplate for cooking, that's what she's used to spending her grocery money on. Lecter's prepaid cards broadened her range a little to deli fixings and meat cooked same-day, partly because she could afford them but mostly 'cuz she happened to have a minifridge at the time.
"It was really...he just explained everything real well," she nods to herself, and to Will, half muffled by the open cabinet door. "And you gotta appreciate all the shade at the anti-science caveman crowd."
Hannibal had been so disappointed, if ultimately unsurprised, to hear that people still persisted in believing in a 6000 year old flat earth, she hadn't had the heart to tease him.
As the boys duck out to find a laptop, Neph goes spelunking in the actual pantry, pushing aside carefully organized dry goods for a tightly rolled, half-empty bag of Chips Ahoy. There's crackers, too, probably meant to be eaten with cheese, but which Neph tends to mindlessly munch over her transcription work. She dumps both on a plate and leans back against the microwave, listening to it hum behind her head.
This is...good. Not being alone right now. Not having the space to sit and think. Activity to keep the panic at bay until she can rationally consider her next steps, that's what she needs. Briefly alone in the kitchen with the comforting white noise of popping kernels, her thoughts drift not toward the dizzying list of shit to arrange now that she's called dibs on Baltimore, but to Will's growing familiarity. He knows Hannibal's name, now. Hannibal gave it to him.
Neph folds her arms over her stomach, shifting her weight as she turns that fact over to examine it from another angle. Hannibal wants Will to know him, wants to keep him close. His feelings for Will complicate everything, and not just because they're a massive security risk; Will's not into guys, so what will Hannibal settle for if he can't have his romantic interest returned? What other secrets will he trade away to keep Will around?
If things keep on, they're gonna come down to the M-word eventually, she feels it in her belly like a flicker of Electrum. Neph breathes in against it, reminds herself that's Hannibal's secret to share however he wants, just like his real name. She just...needs to talk to him before it comes to that, 'cuz if she were Will, she'd immediately figure Hannibal's roommate was a mutant too. Neph's hidden behind that assumption before and she'll do it again, but there's a creepy crawling feeling that comes with the thought of pretending to be a mutant while Hannibal's standing right there. Just picturing it has her running her tongue over her teeth, scraping off a patina of imagined guilt. If they discuss it first, and he says it's okay, then maybe...
The microwave shrieks and Neph shakes those thoughts away. Without the mechanical background hum, she can make out the low murmur of the boys' voices down the hall, drawing closer. She dumps the popcorn into a large mixing bowl, balances her glass of Coke on the plate, and emerges into the living room just as Will says something dry.
"Just shove that on the floor," she jerks her chin at the blanket she'd draped over the table, the better for reading under by flashlight. "I'll use it again."
True to her word, she sets down the food, whisks the blanket around her shoulders, and seats herself on the floor with her chin propped up on the table while Hannibal fiddles with his laptop. "You got the charger?"
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2017-03-01 01:53 am (UTC)What else do they have that's ready-edible? Much as he bitches, Hannibal doesn't restrict her shopping habits. It's Neph herself who holds back from buying All The Seasonal Oreos. Old habits die hard, and old habits dictate non-perishables and coupon clipping. Cookies were for shoplifting. Rice, beans, bread, peanut butter, jelly, pasta and cans of sauce or veggies, all the stuff that didn't need a fridge for storing or anything more than a hotplate for cooking, that's what she's used to spending her grocery money on. Lecter's prepaid cards broadened her range a little to deli fixings and meat cooked same-day, partly because she could afford them but mostly 'cuz she happened to have a minifridge at the time.
"It was really...he just explained everything real well," she nods to herself, and to Will, half muffled by the open cabinet door. "And you gotta appreciate all the shade at the anti-science caveman crowd."
Hannibal had been so disappointed, if ultimately unsurprised, to hear that people still persisted in believing in a 6000 year old flat earth, she hadn't had the heart to tease him.
As the boys duck out to find a laptop, Neph goes spelunking in the actual pantry, pushing aside carefully organized dry goods for a tightly rolled, half-empty bag of Chips Ahoy. There's crackers, too, probably meant to be eaten with cheese, but which Neph tends to mindlessly munch over her transcription work. She dumps both on a plate and leans back against the microwave, listening to it hum behind her head.
This is...good. Not being alone right now. Not having the space to sit and think. Activity to keep the panic at bay until she can rationally consider her next steps, that's what she needs. Briefly alone in the kitchen with the comforting white noise of popping kernels, her thoughts drift not toward the dizzying list of shit to arrange now that she's called dibs on Baltimore, but to Will's growing familiarity. He knows Hannibal's name, now. Hannibal gave it to him.
Neph folds her arms over her stomach, shifting her weight as she turns that fact over to examine it from another angle. Hannibal wants Will to know him, wants to keep him close. His feelings for Will complicate everything, and not just because they're a massive security risk; Will's not into guys, so what will Hannibal settle for if he can't have his romantic interest returned? What other secrets will he trade away to keep Will around?
If things keep on, they're gonna come down to the M-word eventually, she feels it in her belly like a flicker of Electrum. Neph breathes in against it, reminds herself that's Hannibal's secret to share however he wants, just like his real name. She just...needs to talk to him before it comes to that, 'cuz if she were Will, she'd immediately figure Hannibal's roommate was a mutant too. Neph's hidden behind that assumption before and she'll do it again, but there's a creepy crawling feeling that comes with the thought of pretending to be a mutant while Hannibal's standing right there. Just picturing it has her running her tongue over her teeth, scraping off a patina of imagined guilt. If they discuss it first, and he says it's okay, then maybe...
The microwave shrieks and Neph shakes those thoughts away. Without the mechanical background hum, she can make out the low murmur of the boys' voices down the hall, drawing closer. She dumps the popcorn into a large mixing bowl, balances her glass of Coke on the plate, and emerges into the living room just as Will says something dry.
"Just shove that on the floor," she jerks her chin at the blanket she'd draped over the table, the better for reading under by flashlight. "I'll use it again."
True to her word, she sets down the food, whisks the blanket around her shoulders, and seats herself on the floor with her chin propped up on the table while Hannibal fiddles with his laptop. "You got the charger?"