Chapter Text
Will Graham dashes through the trees. Heart racing. Feet pounding. The sounds coming from his own body…but also from another’s. He dodges a bush, leaps over a log. No avail. His moves are mirrored, his shadow doggedly following him.
Will attempts to catch his breath as his nearby stalker attempts to catch him. Just a few more feet and he’ll have made it to the clearing.
One. Two. Thre-
Will is brought tumbling to the ground, everything a mess of limbs. His assailant pins him down and...licks him.
“Winston! Winston! Okay boy, that’s enough!”
Winston continues his merciless attack. He’s earned it.
Will laughs, but upon seeing six other canines heading his way, scrambles up before it turns into a full-on dog pile. Leading his pack inside their house, Will takes one last look at the woods and debates for the millionth time whether it would really be so bad to disappear into the wild. Just him and his dogs. No more teaching. No more killers. No more ominous summons from Jack Crawford.
A yap from Buster pulls him out of it. Will looks down to see Buster, Ellie, and Harley whining for dinner as the other dogs sit politely by their squeaky-clean bowls.
“You wouldn’t last 10 minutes in the woods, huh?”
Winston answers by curling up on his large bed by the fireplace.
-------
QUANTICO, VIRGINIA
Will walks down the dreaded path to Jack’s office, allowing himself one more thought towards the woods before knocking on his door.
“Come in!”
Will opens the door slowly, as if doing so will give Jack the time he needs to change his mind and send Will away after all.
“Will! Please, sit down.”
Will takes the same approach to sitting as he did to opening the door. No success.
Jack observes at the nervous man before him. “You don’t have to look like that, you know.”
“Like what?
“Like I’m about to ask for your kidney”
“No. No, just my mind. That is why I’m here, isn’t it?
Jack stares for a beat.
“I have a case that requires your special skill set.”
“And what skill set is that, I wonder?”
“Dogs.”
That is...not what Will was expecting. He perks up despite himself.
Jack smiles. Finally hooked him. The BAU had been wanting to pick Will’s brain for the better part of a year. His heightened empathy was a hot commodity in these halls, but Will was slow to lend it out. Jack understood, though. Just because you’re good at something doesn’t mean that something is good for you. Will was sick of people. Dogs, however…
Jack dives in. “Three people have gone missing in the Baltimore area over the last two years. Abel Gideon, a surgeon, was the first. Miriam Lass, one of our own, 8 months back. And a week ago, Tobias Budge, a cello instructor and shop owner. Each one vanished without a trace. No notes. No motive. Nothing disturbed in their homes. No evidence left behind. Just plucked out of their lives as if they were never there to begin with.”
“I’ve yet to hear how dogs come into this.”
“Besides the manner and general location of their disappearances, they all have one thing in common. A hobby. Dog shows.”
Will barks out a laugh despite himself.
Jack sighs. “I thought someone with seven dogs, who he seems to enjoy more than his friends and coworkers, would be able to take this a little more seriously.”
“I love my dogs, Jack, but they’re animals. They’re not meant to be paraded around. There’s a difference between my kind of dog ownership and people like...Tobias Budge.”
“And Miriam Lass! Our former colleague. So maybe try to show a little more respect.”
Will shrinks down in his chair. He knows Lass is a sore subject for Jack. And the pain Will feels radiating off Jack is proof enough that that hasn’t changed.
“I’m sorry.” Jack nods, so Will continues, “So you think the person responsible for these disappearances is involved in this...dog show ring?”
“Baltimore’s small. These people participate in the same show with the same folks every year. It’s a tight knit community. And a competitive one.”
Will nods. It does add up. But he’s still stuck on what exactly Jack wants him to do here. There’s no evidence, no traditional crime scene, no lead suspects.
“So what? You want me to interrogate every person involved in this show? This unsub is smart, Jack. Competent. Meticulous. And like you said, the community is tight. If the FBI starts sniffing around, they’ll be able to prepare themselves.”
“That’s why I needed you specifically. Will, I need you to go undercover and enter the competition.”
“What?”
“You have dogs. You know dogs. You love dogs.”
“I JUST told you I-”
“Your empathy makes you an excellent liar. I don’t care what your personal feelings are because I know you’re able to keep them personal.”
Will’s more offended than flattered, but knowing Jack’s unique form of persuasion, that may have been the goal.
“Fine, let’s say I am able to act like I tolerate any of that inanity. Just because I know dogs doesn’t mean I know anything about that world. I’d be kicked out before I’m able to introduce myself. And what? Are you going to give me some purebred? I’d have to spend time with the dog, Jack. It would have to live with me, and my mutts are too rough and tumble for some prissy show dog. Or are you making me move out of my house completely? How undercover is ‘undercover?’ Who’s going to watch my dogs?”
“Can you give me some credit? I have thought about this, you know.”
Jack gives Will a moment to calm down before continuing.
“Undercover in this case just means we will give you a non-FBI associated identity. Since your address isn’t public record, your Wolf Trap home should be safe to stay in. As to the dog, I want to use one of yours. It’ll make it more authentic. And before you say anything, yes, I know they’re all mixes. My plan is to get the head of the competition in on this. I’ll ask him, on behalf of the FBI, to make a special allowance for rescue dogs. It can be a bonus charity thing, I don’t care. We’ll figure it out.”
“And what if the head of the competition is our man?”
“Well. Then we’ve got our enemy close. But for what it’s worth, I’ve met the guy and let’s just say I’d be surprised if it was him...you’ll see for yourself soon enough. We’ll get knowledge on the whole thing from him. He should be able to walk you through the basics, at the very least. I really think we can do this, Will. What do you think?”
What did Will think? Will thought this entire thing was absurd. But he had to admit Jack seemed to know what he was getting them into it. ‘Seemed’ being the operative term. You never knew with Jack. He exuded a lot of confidence and Will hadn’t let himself get sucked in enough before this to know if it was misplaced or not. Will sighs. If he was being truthful, this really wasn’t the worst thing Jack’s ever asked of him. Worse comes to worst, he turns up nothing and gets paid to spend time with one of his dogs for a number of weeks.
“Okay.”
Jack smiles and hands Will the file.
“Let’s get started then.”
-------
BALTIMORE, MD
That limb needs adjusting.
Dr. Hannibal Lecter bends down and re-positions Anzu’s front right paw slightly forward.
That’s better.
Standing back up, Hannibal waits patiently with the other three Hokkaido owners as the judge inspects their companions. Finally reaching Anzu, the judge circles the dog. Then takes a step forward to pat her down, feeling her muscle curvature, proportions, and coat.
All perfect, of course, Hannibal can’t help but think, as he maintains firm eye contact with Anzu, silently comforting and instructing.
The judge finishes and signals the dogs to take a final trip around the ring. The crowd applauds as Hannibal and Anzu glide around the ring with grace. They move as one, Hannibal’s made sure of that over the years. As the four Hokkaidos come to a finish, the judge points to Hannibal first. He loses track of the order after that, as it hardly matters.
Hannibal gleams with pride as he and Anzu are presented with the blue ribbon. The crowd cheers as the beautiful man with his beautiful dog exit the ring. The other competitors shake his hand as he leaves, Hannibal graciously shakes back with promises to cook them all dinner one day. It doesn’t matter if he’s actually sincere so long as they believe he’s sincere.
Finally alone for a moment, Hannibal kneels down to give Anzu a treat and a kiss. His girl. Nothing can ruin this moment.
“Hannibal!”
Hannibal turns to see Franklyn and his Shiba Inu, Kami, excitedly approaching. Hannibal’s walls go back up - only Anzu gets to see them down.
“Franklyn, how nice to see you, if unexpected. I thought the Non-Sporting Best of Breeds were yesterday.”
“They were! Just came to see you and Anzu, actually. Congratulations on another win!”
Hannibal gives a tight smile. “You’re much too kind, Franklyn.”
Franklyn shrugs it off, an overly dramatic gesture that reveals the blue ribbon pinned to his side.
Very well, then.
“And I see congratulations are in order for yourself and young Kami.”
“Thank you! Can you believe it? Best of Breed, only her second year!
“I cannot.”
“Well I never would have gotten into this if not for you, so thank you for everything.”
“I merely recommended you get a dog for therapeutic purposes, you did the rest.”
“Always so humble! Hey, this means we’ll be in Best of Show together! Maybe we can meet up and train sometime! Isn’t it strange how they’re not in the same group? They look so much alike! I guess I should consider myself lucky because if we were in the same group, there’s no chance I’d win! Hannibal Lecter and Anzu? No way! I mean, forget Best in Show, how many Best of Breeds have you two gotten alone?”
“Four. One for every year she’s entered.”
Franklyn is about to reply when a voice interrupts.
“Some would say it’s not a fair marker of talent when the breed is so rare to begin with.”
Franklyn and Hannibal turn towards Freddie Lounds, devoted reporter of the Chesapeake Kennel Club’s events.
Hannibal smiles politely. This was not how he wished to celebrate.
“Some would say having such a rare breed is its own reward, Ms. Lounds.”
“Cute. But we both know: ‘Smaller the pool, bigger the chance.’”
“True. However, that fails to explain my two Working Group wins, and of course, my Best in Show.”
“Word on the street is you won’t be incumbent much longer, Dr. Lecter. You’ve got some competition this year.”
Hannibal is reminded his freezer is getting a bit empty, and looks Freddie over. Anzu does the same, with an added snarl.
Franklyn, seeing this as the perfect opportunity to jump in, responds “Oh, that’s very flattering Ms. Lounds. VERY. But I was just telling Hannibal, I couldn’t possibly compete-”
“You’re sweet. But no. I mean Mr. Dolarhyde over there.”
The two men follow Freddie’s gaze to the well-built, quiet man sitting on a bench, away from the rest of the crowds. He holds a blue ribbon in one hand and his Giant Schnauzer’s leash in another.
He’s gripping the leash a little too tightly for Hannibal’s liking.
Freddie chimes back in, “They’re VERY disciplined. And it shows. You might not even make it to All-Breed this year. Giant Schnauzers ARE Working Group, aren’t they?”
“Discipline is, of course, needed in any competition. However, discipline of an extreme nature will only serve you well in Obedience. Perhaps. And as we all know, Obedience and Agility are merely garnishes for the main course, Best in Show.”
Freddie smirks. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
-------
Finally home, Hannibal allows himself a sigh of relief. Anzu, happily unleashed, makes her way to a luxurious dog bed in the living room.
Hannibal smiles, heads upstairs, and returns holding something behind his back. Anzu immediately perks up.
“It’s not a treat, we can’t spoil your appetite, can we?”
Anzu whines slightly.
“Don’t pout, I have a lovely dinner planned for you tonight. This is just something extra.”
Hannibal gestures with his free hand and Anzu sits accordingly.
“There we are.”
He pulls out a diamond-studded collar. Anzu tilts her head to the side, allowing Hannibal to take her current blue velvet collar off and replace it with his new gift. Hannibal sits back a moment.
“Beautiful.”
He kisses Anzu’s head, puts on some Vivaldi, and heads to the kitchen. Anzu dutifully follows her companion and makes herself at home in the equally tasteful bed lying in the corner of the room.
As Hannibal collects his ingredients and begins cooking, a calm settles over him. He loves the circuit. The crowds, the attention, the praise. Even the people. Generally speaking. He enjoys being part of a community that is fond of one another’s company while at the same time willing to stab you in the back for a shot at glory. It’s a refreshing microcosm of human nature. That being said, Hannibal must return to his own nature at the end of the day. Despite what his dog show associates likely assume, Hannibal will forever be a creature of solitude. Anzu the only exception, of course.
Hannibal looks to Anzu. He hadn’t anticipated this stage of his life. He has never known himself to be what one calls a “dog person.” He was quite attached to animals in his youth but had avoided them since. Traumatic memories had a way of making associations with things that once brought you joy. He supposed his current affection for canines was possible because he had somehow never owned one as a child.
But in truth, he had only purchased Anzu and started competing for practical reasons. In order for Hannibal to maintain his rather unique lifestyle, Hannibal had to partake in unusual activities from time-to-time. This particular one was an attempt to further resemble the profile of one Abel Gideon, part of a plan which had since fallen through.
No matter.
Hannibal now competed because he genuinely enjoyed it. Took pride in it. How lucky to find a new hobby by protecting another one. And how lucky to find Anzu. For the first time in a long time Hannibal had someone to care for. Someone to love. Someone who loved him back with no lies, no agenda. Someone to whom he could entrust all his secrets.
DING!
Hannibal pours himself some bourguignon from one pot before pouring a dog-safe version from another pot into Anzu’s ceramic food bowl. Anzu gets up and accompanies Hannibal to the dining room. Hannibal rests the bowl down on the ground and gestures for Anzu to wait. She does without complaint, she knows this routine. Hannibal sits, picks up his silverware and nods contently to Anzu.
Bon Appétit.