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Soft music filters through the kitchen as Alana drinks her beer and watches Hannibal peel tomatoes. Suddenly, Hannibal hits her with a question that distracts her from the calmness of the moment.
“Did Jack ask you to profile the Ripper?” There’s a hint of concern in his voice, along with something else. Something stern and piercing that reminds her of when he was her teacher and mentor, of when he would ask her to tell the truth in a tone of voice that left no forgiveness for lies.
It makes Alana feel strange. She can’t even meet his eyes at first, pretending to focus on the ingredients laid out on the counter.
Alana shakes off the odd feeling Hannibal’s tone elicits, answering, “Not since I consulted on the case with Miriam. Before she disappeared.”
Hannibal looks up just as she does, meeting her gaze. “Crawford's trainee?” he asks, features softening.
Alana nods, a bitter taste rising in her throat. “Yeah,” she replies, voice soft and hollow.
“Very sad,” he replies simply, returning his attention to the tomatoes.
The tension in the room begins to fade, and Alana relaxes.
“You had me examining PhD candidates that week,” she says.
“And I’m grateful you were examining PhD students and not the Ripper,” Hannibal replies.
Alana is taken aback by the sudden warmth that spreads through her at Hannibal’s response. She is further surprised by what Hannibal says next.
“You realize those candidates thought we were having an affair,” he says, looking up at her.
Alana tries her hardest to keep a straight face, even as she can feel her cheeks warming. Her mouth forms a smile against her own wishes. And then—
“Why didn’t we?” he asks, smiling slightly.
In the moments before Alana replies, she remembers exactly why.
Alana walks down the empty, narrow hallway carrying a small folder; sorted PhD candidates for Hannibal. They had all been interviewed, and she had narrowed the field down considerably, leaving the finer details for Hannibal to go over.
Alana wonders if Hannibal might ask her to go over the final candidates with him. Perhaps in his home. Perhaps over a glass of wine for him and a glass of beer for herself. She wonders if they’ll sit next to each other, if her thigh might graze against his, or if their hands might brush together as they review the stack of papers.
Alana bites her lip, forcing back a smile at the thoughts. Her cheeks heat up under her makeup. She takes a moment to organize her thoughts as she approaches Hannibal’s office door, giving a short knock before entering. She takes one look inside Hannibal’s office and freezes.
Hannibal has a woman pushed up against his desk, practically sitting atop it. His hands are on her hips, gripping tightly, and he’s kissing the woman in a way Alana had only imagined that he might eventually kiss her. Hannibal tilts his head, slotting their mouths together at a slightly different angle, and Alana catches sight of his tongue as it slips into the other woman’s mouth.
Alana’s insides twist and coil with a mix of emotions, completely confused between equal parts anger, jealousy, sadness, and arousal. After another moment, she finally registers the noises in the room, and new waves of arousal and jealousy hit her.
Alana can do nothing but stare, too shocked and embarrassed to interrupt. Thankfully, or perhaps not so thankfully, she doesn’t have to.
Hannibal pulls back from the kiss, turning and spotting Alana, looking only barely surprised by her presence. “Dr. Bloom—” he begins, but his voice is enough to snap Alana out of it.
She steps backwards, almost tripping over her own heels, and averts her eyes from Hannibal and the other woman. “I’m sorry, I just—” She bumps into the door as she’s moving away. “I just had the, uh, the candidates, and I thought I’d…” Alana swallows and sets the folder on a chair next to the door. “I have to go.” She rushes out of the room, ignoring Hannibal as he calls after her.
It isn’t until she reaches the bottom of the stairwell that she relaxes, sitting on the bottom step and breathing heavily. She ignores the tears that well in her eyes.
Alana goes home early that day.
Alana pushes the memory to the back of her mind, ignoring the jealousy and sadness and longing that still rage within herself.
Her heart twists as she says, “You were already having an affair.”